THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

JAMES  J.   MC   BRIDE 


MRS.  M'LERIE 


"  '  I  tell  ye,  wumman,  I'm  no'  gaun  to  tak'  it ! ' 


MRS.  M'LERIE 


BY 

J.  J.  BELL 

AUTHOR  OF  "WEE  MACGEEEGOE" 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1904 


Copyright,  1903,  by  THE  CENTURY  Co. 
Copyright,  1903,  by  FRANK  LKSLIE 

PUBLISHING  House 
Copyright,  1903,  by  J.  J.  BELL 


Published,  January,  1904 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS 


PR 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I  ON  THE  CRAFT  ........      3 

ii  THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  .....  21 
m  MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  Zoo  .  39 
iv  THE  RAFFLE  TICKET  .....  56 

v  MRS.  MUNRO'S  PARTY   .....    69 

vi  MRS.  M'LERIE  is  DEPRESSED     .    .    81 
VH  AN  AFFRONT     ........    98 

VHI  THE  JUMBLE  SALE    ......  109 

ix  MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT  .  .  122 

x  THE  CANARY     ........  134 

xi  A  DISTINGUISHED  VISITOR  .  .  .  149 

XII  JlMSIE    ...........   165 

xiii  MRS.  DUMPHY  CALLS     .....  183 

xiv  JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH  .    .    .    .197 

xv  MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE      .  214 


718488 


MRS.  M'LERIE 


MRS.  M'LERIE 


ON    THE    CRAFT 

IT  wis  a  peety  yer  man  cudna  gang 
wi '  ye  to  Mistress  Robison  's  pairty 
on  Thursday  nicht,"  observed  Mrs. 
M'Lerie  to  her  old  friend  who  had 
dropped  in  to  enjoy  a  *  'dish  o'  tea"  and 
a  chat. 

"It  wis  a  peety,"  returned  Mrs. 
Munro,  "fur  it  wis  a  rale  nice  pairty, 
an'  we  got  finnan  haddies  an'  hard-biled 
eggs  to  wur  suppers,  an '  ma  man  's  fair 
daft  fur  finnan  haddies  an'  hard-biled 
eggs.  'Deed,  when  I  seen  the  dish  on 
the  table,  I  thocht  to  maseP,  it  wis  maybe 
jist  as  weel  he  wisna  there,  fur  I  'm  aye 
a  wee  thing  feart  o'  bein'  affrontit  when 


MRS.   M'LERIE 


he  gets  finnan  eggs  an'  hard-biled  bad- 
dies—ach!  I  mean  the  ither  thing— in 
comp'ny.  He  jist  losses  hissel',  as  it 
were,  in  the  enjyement  o'  the  moment, 
an'  although  I  Ve  checkit  him  a  dizzen 
times  fur  savin'  the  gravy  till  the  end 
an'  then  suppin'  it  wi'  his  tea-spune,  he 
aye  furgets.  I  'm  no'  settin'  up  to  be 
high-cless  gentry,  Mistress  M'Lerie,  but 
I  dinna  think  it  's  vera  nice  to  baud  yer 
gravy  till  a '  the  ither  folk  has  feenished 
theirs.  It  's  no'  fair  to  the  ither  folk. 
But  it  's  ma  guidman's  yin  fau't,  an' 
maybe  I  sudna  say  onythin'  aboot  it." 

"It  '11  never  be  repeated  oot  o'  ma 
mooth,  Mistress  Munro.  The  vera  best 
o'  folk  has  some  failin',  an'  it 's  no' 
fur  you  nor  me  to  judge  them.  An' 
maybe  yer  man,  if  he  had  been  at  the 
pairty,  wud  ha'e  mindit  no'  to  save  his 
gravy." 

"I  believe  ye  're  richt,  Mistress  M'Le- 


ON  THE  CRAFT 


rie.  Hooever,  I  never  tell 't  him  whit  we 
had  to  wur  supper,  fur  I  didna  want  to 
disappint  him.  Ye  see,  he  cudna  gang 
to  Mistress  Robison's  because  it  wis  his 
ludge  meetin',  an'  he  disna  like  to  miss 
that." 

"Whit  's  that?"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
looking  puzzled. 

"His  ludge  meetin'.  He  's  a  Mason, 
ye  ken." 

"A  mason?  Ye  mean  a  plumber. 
He  's  shairly  no'  changed  his  trade  at 
his  time  o'  life." 

'  *  Tits ! ' '  exclaimed  the  visitor,  with  a 
laugh.  "He  's  a  Freemason,  Mistress 
M'Lerie." 

"A  Freemason,  Mistress  Munro !  Oh, 
ye  're  no'  tellin'  me  yer  man  's  a  Free- 
mason ! ' ' 

"An'  whit  fur  no?  He  's  been  a 
Mason  since  afore  we  wis  mairrit,  an' 
that  wisna  yesterday." 


MRS.   M'LERIE 


1 1  Dearie  me ! "  sighed  her  friend.  *  *  I 
never  thocht  that  o '  him.  A  dacent  man 
like  him!  Weel,  weel,  I  'm  vexed  to 
hear  ye  say  that.  A  Freemason ! ' ' 

"Guidsake,  wumman,"  cried  Mrs. 
Munro,  not  without  indignation  in  her 
tone.  "An',  if  ye  please,  whit  's  wrang 
aboot  bein'  a  Mason?" 

1  'Aw,  I  best  no'  say  onythin'.  Yer 
burden  's  ower  heavy  wi  'oot  me  makin ' 
it  waur.  Sirs,  the  day !  A  Freemason ! ' ' 
And  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  groaned  dismally. 

"I  wud  be  obleeged  if  ye  wud  explain 
yersel',"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  very  stiffly. 

"Dinna  be  offendit,  Mistress  Munro. 
Maybe  I  sudna  ha'e  spoke,  but  it  wis  aff 
ma  tongue  afore  I  kent.  Ye  see— 

' '  Did  ye  no '  mean  it  ? "  demanded  the 
other,  whose  usually  placid  countenance 
was  red  and  angry. 

"Ay,  I  meant  it,  but  I  didna  mean  to 
vex  ye.  It  's  no'  your  fau't  yer  man  's 


ON  THE   CRAFT 


a  Freemason.  I  'm  no'  blamin'  you, 
Mistress  Munro,  I  'm  no '  blamin '  you. ' ' 

For  a  quarter  of  a  minute  Mrs.  Munro 
sat  speechless  with  wrath.  Then,  with 
a  great  effort,  she  said  in  a  strained 
voice:  "I  ask  ye  again  to  explain  yer 
dark  sayin  's,  Mistress  M'  Lerie. ' ' 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  looked  nervously  at  her 
old  friend.  "Weel,  ye  see,"  she  began, 
stumblingly,  "ma  man  's  no'  haudin' 
wi'  ony  o'  thae  secret  societies,  an'  I  'm 
no'  haudin'  wi'  them  either." 

"Secret  societies!  Ye  wud  think  ye 
wis  talkin'  aboot  fenians  an'  nilists  an' 
gun-poother  plots  an'— an' — " 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin,"  said  Mrs.  M' Le- 
rie, mildly. 

"It  's  no'  a'  yin!  Whit  dae  you  an' 
yer  man  ken  aboot  Freemasons?  Tell 
me  that!" 

"Och,  dinna  flee  up,  Mistress  Munro, 
dinna  flee  up." 


8  MRS.  M'LERIE 

*  *  I  'm  no '  fleein '  up,  Mistress  M'  Lerie. 
I  'm  jist  askin'  ye  a  question,  an'  I  '11 
be  greatly  obleeged  fur  yer  answer. ' ' 

"I  wisna  intendin'  fur  to  insult  yer 
guidman.  I  only  said  I  wis  vexed  lie  wis 
a  Freemason." 

"That  's  nae  answer  to  ma  question. 
Whit  dae  you  an'  yer  man  ken  aboot 
Freemasons  I ' ' 

"Whit  dae  ye  ken  yersel',  Mistress 
Munro!" 

Mrs.  Munro  looked  rather  foolish. 
Recovering  her  dignity,  but  not  her  tem- 
per, she  said  angrily:  "It  's  jist  like  yer 
man,  wi'  a'  his  prayer-meetin 's  an' 
psawm-singin ',  to  speak  ill  o'  dacent 
folk.  Ay." 

Mrs.  M' Lerie  recoiled  as  if  she  had 
received  a  slap  in  the  face.  "I  never 
said  ma  man  said  onythin'  ag'in'  Free- 
masons. He  's  jist  no'  haudin'  wi'  them 
an' — an'  their  evil  practices." 


ON  THE   CRAFT 


"Whit!    Evil  practices!" 

"Ay,  an'  heathenish  practices!" 

"  Oh !  .  .  .  Wud  ye  be  pleased  to  be  a 
little  mair  expleecit,  Mistress  M'  Lerie, ' ' 
said  her  visitor,  with  awful  politeness. 

"I  '11  be  nae  sic  thing!"  exclaimed 
the  hostess,  thinking  that  "expleecit" 
meant  something  very  bad.  * i  But  I  tell 
ye  this,  Mistress  Munro,  I  tell  ye  this! 
—I  wudna  like  ma  man  to  be  ridin' 
aboot  on  a  nanny-goat  in  his  stockin '- 
soles!  Na,  I  wudna!" 

"Ach,  it  's  a'  a  story  aboot  the  goat," 
returned  Mrs.  Munro,  with  a  contemptu- 
ous laugh.  "I  Ve  heard  it  dizzens  o' 
times,  but  I  never  heard  tell  o'  the 
stockin  '-soles  afore. ' ' 

"Weel,  ye 're  aye  learnin'.  I've 
heard  tell  o'  the  stockin '-soles.  Ay,  an' 
waur  nor  that ! ' ' 

"Whaur  did  ye  hear  it?" 

"Never  you  mind  whaur  I  heard  it." 


10  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"I  doot  whaever  telPt  ye  wis  makin' 
code  o '  ye,  as  it  were, ' '  said  Mrs.  Munro, 
smiling  disagreeably. 

"Jist  as  ye  think,  Mistress  Munro. 
But  ye  canna  swear  that  yer  man  disna 
ride  on  a  goat  in  his  stockin '-soles,  fur 
he  's  no'  alooed  to  tell  ye  whit  he  dis 
when  he  gangs  to  his  heathenish  meet- 
in  's.  Did  ye  ever  speir  at  him  whit  they 
dae  at  the  meetin  's  f " 

"It  's  nane  o'  ma  business,"  the  other 
haughtily  replied. 

"That  'sapeety!" 

1 '  Whit  dae  ye  mean ! ' ' 

"I  mean  that  I  'm  thinkin'  there  's 
somethin'  gey  faur  wrang  wi'  meetin 's 
that  's  kep'  as  secret  as  the  kind  we  're 
talkin'  aboot.  Yer  man  wud  be  safer  at 
the  prayer-meetin ',  ef ter  a '. " 

"Mony  a  man  gangs  to  baith  kin's  o' 
meetin 's.  Ye  're  jist  exposin'  yer  eeg- 
norance,  Mistress  M'Lerie." 


ON  THE  CRAFT  11 

"Ay,  an'  there  's  mony  a  wolf  in 
sheep's  clothin',  Mistress  Munro,  mony 
a  wolf  in— 

"If  ye  're  meanin'  ma  man—'* 

"Na,  na;  I  never  said  a  word  aboot 
yer  man.  Ye  Ve  a  rale  dacent  man,  an ' 
a  kind  man  furbye,  an'  I  'm  jist  vexed 
to  think  he  's  got  intil  sic  bad  comp'ny. 
But  maybe  it 's  no '  ower  late  to  save  him. 
Ye  sud  speak  to  him  saf t-like,  an '  try  to 
get  him  to  gi'e  up  his  heathenish  prac- 
tices. Fur,  ye  see,  it  disna  end  wi '  ridin ' 
on  a  goat  in  yer  stockin '-soles.  I  Ve 
heard  o '  folks  gettin '  marks  pit  on  them 
—marks,  Mistress  Munro!" 

"Weel?" 

"An'  when  they  're  markit,  they  can 
never  get  awa'  frae  the  heathenish  prac- 
tices, an'  their  vera  souls  isna  their 
ain. ' ' 

"Dae  ye  mean  their  stockin '-soles  ?" 
inquired  Mrs.  Munro,  affecting  flippancy, 


12  MRS.   M'LERIE 

though  she  was  beginning  to  feel  genu- 
inely uneasy. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  wagged  her  head  sol- 
emnly. "I  mean  their  inside  souls,  an' 
ye  ken  that  weel  enough,  Mistress 
Munro.  An'  they  canna  get  awa'  be- 
cause the  ithers  a'  ken  them  frae  the 
marks  on  them." 

'  *  But  I  've  heard  tell  that  it  's  a  great 
honor  to  a  Freemason  to  get  a  mark, 
an'  he  's  rale  prood  when  he  gets  it," 
said  Mrs.  Munro,  rather  feebly.  Terrible 
thoughts  were  rising  in  her  mind.  Was 
her  husband,  she  asked  herself,  a  marked 
man? 

"Nae  doot,"  Mrs.  M'Lerie  slowly  re- 
plied, "nae  doot,  it  's  aye  pleesanter  to 
pretend  ye  're  prood.  But  I  hope  yer 
man  hasna  ony  marks  on  him.  But," 
she  went  on  after  a  long  breath,  "the 
warst  o'  it  a'  is  that  it  's  a  secret,  an' 
a  man  has  to  hide  things  frae  his  wife. 


ON  THE  CRAFT  13 

Ay !  lie  's  got  to  sweer  he  '11  no '  tell  his 
wife,  or  onybody  else,  aboot  the  heathen- 
ish cairry-ons  at  the  meetin's.  It  's  a 
sad  job  when  a  wumnian  disna  ken  whit 
her  man  's  ef  ter  every  ither  nicht. ' ' 

"He  jist  gangs  to  his  ludge  yinst  a 
f  ortnicht, ' '  interposed  the  visitor,  miser- 
ably. 

"Weel,  maybe  there  's  a  chance  fur 
him  yet,  if  ye  speak  to  him  saft-like. 
Dinna  get  up  his  dander,  ye  ken,  or 
ye  '11  maybe  mak '  him  waur. ' ' 

But  this  advice,  though  kindly  meant 
and  mildly  offered,  was  too  much  for 
Mrs.  Munro.  Thoroughly  enraged,  she 
rose  abruptly  from  the  chair  from  which 
she  had  so  often  indulged  in  sympathetic 
gossip  with  her  old  friend,  and  in  a 
high,  quivering  voice,  exclaimed: 

"Ye  wud  tell  me  hoo  to  luk  efter  ma 
man,  wud  ye  ?  My,  but  ye  Ve  a  neck  on 
ye,  Mistress  M'Lerie!  Ye  wud  tell  me 


14  MRS.   M'LERIE 

hoo  to  manage  him?  Humph!  Awa' 
an*  manage  yer  ain  man  first.  Ha !  ha ! 
ha !  That  's  ma  advice  to  you.  Manage 
yer  ain  man  first— if  ye  can!" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  shrank  into  her  chair, 
stung  by  the  last  words,  for  it  was  only 
too  true  that  she  was  wed  to  a  strictly 
good  but  domineering  husband. 

"Ay!  Manage  him  if  ye  can!"  cried 
Mrs.  Munro,  with  bitter  satisfaction  at 
the  effect  of  her  remark.  "An'  he  's 
maybe  no'  jist  as  guid  as  ye  think,  fur 
a'  that  he  's  as  narra-mindit  as  a— a— 

"  He  's  no '  narra-mindit ! ' ' 

"  Ach,  ye  ken  better  nor  that !  I  sup- 
pose ye  've  furgot  the  time  when  ye  wis 
feart  he  wud  fin'  oot  ye  had  been  at 
a  bazaur  an '  bocht  a  raffle- tucket  f  Eh  ? ' ' 

*  *  Weel,  I  tell 't  ye  at  the  time  I  sudna 
ha'e  gaed  to  the  bazaur  when  he  wisna 
haudin'  wi'  bazaurs  an'  rattles,"  said 
Mrs.  M'Lerie,  feebly. 

"Ay,  ye  're  a  fine  yin  to  manage  a 


ON  THE  CRAFT  15 

man !  Practise  whit  ye  preach,  Mistress 
M'Lerie,  practise  whit  ye  preach.  I  '11 
luk  efter  ma  man  ma  ain  wey,  thenk  ye 
kindly  a'  the  same,  an'  I  jalouse  he  '11 
get  as  guid  a  sate— ay,  an'  a  sate  jist  as 
faur  furrit— in  Hivven  as  Maister  M'Le- 
rie.  ...  So  I  '11  bid  ye  guid-day,  Mis- 
tress M'Lerie,  no'  furgettin'  to  thenk  ye 
fur  yer— yer  impiddence."  And  Mrs. 
Munro  rushed  from  the  room,  and  from 
the  house,  leaving  her  hostess  in  a  con- 
dition of  speechless  collapse. 

Some  minutes  went  past  before 
Mrs.  M'Lerie  collected  her  scattered 
thoughts,  and  when  she  did  so  they 
might  have  been  likened  to  so  many  hard 
peas,  and  her  mind  to  a  bowl  of  misery. 
4 'Oh  me,  the  day!"  she  sighed  at  last. 
"Whit  's  this  I  Ve  dune?  Cast  oot  wi' 
ma  auld  f  reen '.  .  .  .  And  her  an '  me  that 
pack  fur  mony  an'  mony  a  year.  .  .  . 
Whit  did  I  say  to  her  ?  Whit  did  she  say 
to  me?  Aw,  to  think  o'  twa  auld  wifes 


16  MRS.   M'LERIE 

like  her  an'  me  castin'  oot!  .  .  .  But 
I  'm  shair  I  done  it  a'  fur  the  best.  I 
wis  sair  vexed  fur  her  ha'ein'  a  Free- 
mason fur  a  man,  an '  I  wis  gey  anxious 
fur  her  to  try  an'  save  him.  'Deed,  I 
wis  a'  that.  But  I  doot  I  gaed  aboot  it 
the  wrang  wey.  I  didna  mean  to  offend 
her.  .  .  .  But  it  wisna  fair  o'  her 
speakin'  back  the  wey  she  did,  fur  she 
niicht  ha'e  kent  I  wis  savin'  it  a'  fur 
the  best,  an'  she  needna  ha'e  fleed  up 
that  quick.  .  .  .  Ay,. it  's  a  peety  fur  her 
to  ha'e  a  Freemason  fur  a  man,  an'  it  's 
no'  fur  me  to  judge  her,  puir  buddy." 
And  a  tear  rolled  down  the  wrinkled 
cheek. 

After  this  manner  did  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
moralize  till  the  clock  warned  her  that 
it  was  time  for  her  to  go  out  to  purchase 
the  kippers  which  her  husbarid  had  or- 
dered for  his  tea. 

On  her  way  to  the  grocer  she  was 


ON  THE   CRAFT  17 

startled  to  hear  a  cheerful  salutation 
behind,  and  a  moment  later  the  minister 
of  the  church  she  attended  with  unfail- 
ing regularity  was  walking  by  her  side. 
Mrs.  M'  Lerie  had  an  intense  admiration 
for  the  minister,  and  as  a  rule  was  quite 
at  ease  in  his  company.  But  on  this  oc- 
casion, in  her  distress  of  mind,  she  had 
scarcely  a  word  to  say,  and  could  hardly 
bring  herself  to  smile  when  he  made 
a  joke. 

11  Shopping  for  Mr.  M'  Lerie 's  tea,  I 
suppose,"  he  remarked,  for  it  was  not 
the  first  time  he  had  met  her  on  that 
errand.  "I  hope  you  're  going  to  give 
him  something  nice,"  he  added,  merely, 
for  the  sake  of  speaking,  for  he  began  to 
notice  she  was  ill  at  ease. 

"Ay,  he  likes  Freemasons,"  stam- 
mered the  old  woman. 

"  Freemasons !"  exclaimed  the  minis- 
ter. 

2 


18  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"I— I  mean  kippers,  sir,"  she  said, 
with  something  like  a  sob.  ''He— he  's 
no'  haudin'  wi'  Freemasons,"  she  added 
hastily. 

"Is  he  not?"  The  minister  checked 
a  laugh,  and  spoke  gently.  It  was  clear 
that  something  serious  was  troubling  the 
humble  member  of  his  congregation. 
But  he  forbore  to  question  her,  though 
he  was  naturally  curious  as  to  the  reason 
of  her  extraordinary  remark. 

She,  however,  had  not  the  courage  to 
enlighten  him,  much  as  she  longed  to 
do  so,  with  a  view  to  gaining  comfort 
and  perhaps  advice,  and  they  reached 
the  grocer's  shop  without  a  word  on 
her  side. 

"Good-bye,  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  and  re- 
member me  to  your  husband,"  said  the 
minister,  and  turned  away. 

She  stepped  into  the  shop,  stepped 
out  again,  and,  forgetful  of  all  things 


ON  THE  CKAFT  19 

but  one,  called  after  the  black-coated 
figure. 

He  came  back  at  once.  "You  want 
me,  Mrs.  M'Lerie?" 

She  nodded,  unable  to  speak. 

"Come  this  way,  and  tell  me  about 
it,"  he  said  gently,  and  led  her  into  a 
quiet  street. 

And  there,  incoherently  enough,  she 
told  her  tale,  ending  with  a  question, 
which  need  not  be  written  down,  but  to 
which  the  minister  very  gravely,  but 
with  something  like  a  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
replied : 

"I  hope  so,  Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Indeed,  I 
believe  so.  And  you  mustn't  be  too 
hard  on  the  masonic  brethren,  for — 
well,  I  happen  to  be  one  of  them. ' ' 

To  poor  Mrs.  M'Lerie  it  was  the 
shock  of  the  afternoon,  but  the  minister 
would  not  allow  her  to  say  a  word. 

'  *  You  must  n  't  waste  a  moment  more 


20  MRS.  M'LERIE 

on  me,"  he  said.    "You  must  think  of 
Mrs.  Munro— your  old  friend." 

'  *  Ma  auld  f  reen ', ' '  sighed  Mrs.  M'  Le- 
rie.  "I  '11  gang  an '  see  her  the  noo. ' ' 

For  the  first  time  in  his  long  period  of 
married  life,  Mr.  M'Lerie  that  night  had 
to  wait  for  his  tea. 


II 

THE     COUNTRY     VISIT 


,  ye  Ve  got  back,"  said  Mrs. 
Munro,  seating  herself  at  her 
old  friend's  table  and  taking  the  cup  of 
tea  presented  to  her. 

"Ay,  I  Ve  got  back,"  returned  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  who  had  been  spending  nearly 
a  week  with  her  sister-in-law  in  the 
country  and  whose  homely,  kindly  vis- 
age wore  an  unaccustomed  rosiness. 

Mrs.  Munro  poured  a  portion  of  her 
tea  into  her  saucer,  and  took  a  mouthful 
of  the  almost  scalding  liquid,  making 
a  peculiar  sound,  doubtless  of  satisfac- 
tion, as  it  passed  her  lips. 

"Ye  're    lukin'    rale    weel,    Mistress 
M'Lerie,"  she  observed  presently. 
21 


22  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"I  'm  feelin'  no'  so  bad,  Mistress 
Munro;  I  'm  feelin'  no'  so  bad— noo," 
the  hostess  admitted. 

Mrs.  Munro  looked  puzzled.  "Ye 
mean  ye  're  kin'  o'  gled  to  be  hame 
again,  I  suppose,"  she  said. 

"Jist  that,"  replied  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
rather  shortly. 

"Did  ye  no'  enjye  yersel'?"  ex- 
claimed her  friend,  in  surprise. 

"Whiles." 

* '  'Deed,  I  'm  vexed  fur  that, ' '  said  the 
visitor,  with  a  gaze  of  sympathy. 

"I  'm  no'  sayin'  I  didna  enjye  ma- 
sel ', ' '  said  the  other,  hastily.  ' '  Ye  mauna 
think  that,  Mistress  Munro,  ye  mauna 
think  that!" 

"But  I  doot  it  wisna  a'  pleesure,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Munro,  who  could  not  help 
feeling  curious  regarding  her  friend's 
experiences  in  the  country. 

"Maybe  no',  maybe  no',"  slowly  re- 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  23 

plied  Mrs.  M'  Lerie.  * '  But  is  there  ony- 
thin'  in  the  warld  that  's  a'  pleesure! 
Tell  me  that,  Mistress  Munro ! ' ' 

Mrs.  Munro  took  a  drink  of  tea  before 
she  replied.  "I  daursay  ye  're  richt. 
But  I  wis  hopin'  it  wud  be  naethin'  but 
pleesure  wi '  yer  guid-sister  in  the  coun- 
try." 

* '  I  thocht  that  masel '.  But,  as  ye  ken, 
I  gaed  to  please  ma  man.  Ye  see,  his 
sister  has  askit  me  fur  near  twinty  year, 
an'  I  've  aye  said  I  cudna  gang;  but  this 
time  ma  man  wis  that  anxious  fur  me 
to  gang,  an'  I  jist  gaed.  .  .  .  Aweel,  it  's 
a'  bye  noo,  an',  as  ye  say,  I  'm  kin'  o' 
gled  to  get  hame. ' ' 

"Ay.  But  whit  gaed  wrang,  that  ye 
didna  enjye  yersel'?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Munro. 

"I  didna  say  I  didna  enjye  masel'," 
was  the  reply,  given  with  a  touch  of 
asperity. 


24  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Weel,  ye  didna  exactly  say  ye  did, 
did  ye?" 

"Och,  never  heed  aboot  it.  It  's  a' 
bye  noo. ' ' 

But  Mrs.  Munro  was  not  to  be  put  off. 
1  'I  ken  fine  ye  didna  enjye  yersel',  so  ye 
best  tell  us  a '  aboot  it. ' ' 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  looked  uneasy.  "Ye— 
ye  '11  no  tell  ma  man  I  tell't  ye?"  she 
said  at  last. 

Mrs.  Munro  drew  herself  up,  and  very 
solemnly  said:  "May  I  dee  this  vera 
meenit  if  I  ever  open  ma  mooth ! ' '  Then 
she  finished  her  tea  and  passed  in  her 
cup. 

The  hostess  refilled  the  cup  and 
handed  it  back  before  she  replied. 
' '  Mind, ' '  she  began  at  last,  ' '  mind,  I  'm 
no'  sayin'  onythin'  ag'in'  ma  guid-sis- 
ter,  IVlistress  M'Corkindale." 

Mrs.  Munro  nodded  reassuringly  as 
she  stirred  her  tea. 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  25 

* '  Weel,  I  '11  jist  ha 'e  to  tell  ye  a'  aboot 
it,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie.  "To  begin  wi', 
I  had  a  maist  awf u '  rin  fur  the  train.  I 
thocht  it  stairtit  at  twinty-five  past  twa, 
but  when  I  got  to  the  station,  wi'  ma 
tin  boax  an'  twa- three  paircels,  it  wis 
jist  the  time;  an'  I  wis  sclimmin'  intil 
a  cairriage  when  a  man  grups  ma  airm 
an '  speirt  at  me  whaur  I  wis  gaun.  .  .  . 
'Kinbuckie,'  says  I.  ...  'This  is  the 
train  for  Mulguy,'  he  says,  kin'  o' 
short-like.  .  .  .  'Deed,  Mistress  Munro, 
it  wis  a  narra  escape!  .  .  .  'Whaur  's 
the  Kinbuckie  train?'  says  I,  when  he 
had  tooken  ma  boax  an '  paircels  oot  the 
cairriage  an '  drappit  them  on  the  gr  'un ' 
jist  as  if  they  wis  dirt.  .  .  .  'Number 
three  platform,'  says  he,  'but  ye  Ve 
plenty  time.  It  disna  stairt  till  ten  meen- 
its  afore  five. '  .  .  .  '  But  I  want  the  train 
that  gangs  at  twinty-five  past  twa, '  says 
I,  kin'  o'  angry,  fur  he  had  pu'ed  the 


26  MRS.  M'LEBIE 

string  aff  yin  o'  ma  paircels.  .  .  .  *  Weel, 
ye  better  tak'  a  sate  an'  wait  till  Setter- 
day,'  says  he.  An'  wi'  that  he  gaed 
awa'." 

"Aw,  I  see,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  "ye 
hadna  noticed  the  train  wis  Setterdays 
only.  Whit  a  peety!" 

"I  can  tell  ye,  I  wis  gey  sair  pit  oot, 
f  urbye  the  impiddence  o '  the  man  tellin ' 
me  to  wait  till  Setterday  when  it  wis 
jist  Tuesday.  But  at  last  I  got  awa'." 

"Is  't  a  lang  journey  to  Kinbuckie?" 
inquired  Mrs.  Munro. 

"Near  three  'oors,  an',  as  ye  ken,  I 
dinna  like  sittin'  in  trains.  But  there 
wis  a  dacent  auld  man  in  the  cairriage, 
an'  he  tell't  me  aboot  a'  the  places  on 
the  road,  an '  tell 't  me  when  I  wis  comin ' 
near  Kinbuckie.  So  I  got  there  safe  an' 
soon',  an'  no  muckle  the  waur,  excep' 
that  I  wis  unco  dry,  an'  wearyin'  fur  a 
dish  o'  tea." 


THE  COUNTRY   VISIT  27 

"Ye  wud  be  that,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Munro,  in  tones  of  sympathy.  "An' 
wis  Mistress  M'  Corkindale  waitin '  at  the 
station?" 

"Na;  but  her  man  wis  there.  He 
said  he  guessed  I  wud  come  wi'  that 
train,  but  I  think  Mistress  M'  Corkindale 
micht  ha'e  let  me  ken  aboot  the  ither 
train  bein'  a  Setterday  yin." 

"Is  Maister  M' Corkindale  a  nice 
man!" 

"Mphm!  .  .  .  Ay,  he  's  a  nice  man, 
Mistress  Munro.  Faur  be  it  frae  me  to 
say  a  word  ag 'in 'Maister  M'  Corkindale. 
An*  he  's  weel  aff.  But  he  's  awfu' 
quate.  He  hardly  ever  opens  his  mooth, 
an'  when  he  dis,  it  's  jist  like  a  moose 
squeakin'.  .  .  .  But  I  wis  gaun  to  tell 
ye  whit  happened  efter  I  got  oot  the 
station.  Maister  M*  Corkindale  pit 
ma  boax  an'  paircels  intil  yin  o'  thae 
machines  that  's  a'  wheels  an'  nae 


28  MRS.   M'LERIE 

sates— jigs,  I  think  they  ca'  them, 
an'-" 

"It  wud  be  a  gig  ye  mean,"  Mrs. 
Munro  interrupted. 

' '  Maybe.  But  I  can  tell  ye  it  felt  liker 
a  jig.  'Deed,  ay!"  retorted  her  friend. 
"I  wisna  fur  gettin'  up  on  the  machine 
at  first,  and  tell't  Maister  M'Corkindale 
I  wud  shinner  walk,  fur  the  horse  lukit 
kin'  o'  wild  an'  furious.  But  he  said  it 
wis  near  sax  mile  to  the  fairm,  an'  I 
needna  be  f  eart.  Ma  certy !  if  I  had  kent 
it  wis  that  length  f  rae  the  station  I  wud 
never  ha'e  left  Glesca!  .  .  .  But  there 
wis  naethin'  else  fur  it,  so  efter  twa- 
three  attem's  I  sprauchled  up  on  the 
machine,  an'  awa'  we  gaed.  I  needna 
tell  ye  ma  sufferin's,  Mistress  Munro, 
but  I  wis  near  shooken  to  bits  when  I 
got  to  the  fairm,  an'  rale  thenkfu'  to 
feel  the  gr'un'  ablow  ma  feet  again." 

"But  yer  troubles  wud  be  ower,  as  it 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  29 

were,  when  ye  got  to  the  fainn,"  Mrs. 
Munro  observed  cheerfully. 

"Ye  micht  think  that,  Mistress 
Munro,  ye  micht  think  that!  I  thocht 
that  masel'— at  first." 

' '  But  whit  gaed  wrang  ?  Wis  Mistress 
M*  Corkindale  no'  rale  kind  and  plees- 
ant?" 

'  *  I  never  said  onythin '  ag  'in '  ma  guid- 
sister,  Mistress  M'  Corkindale ! " 

"I  'm  no'  sayin'  ye  did,  Mistress 
M'Lerie.  I— I  wis  merely  speirin',  so 
to  speak. ' ' 

"Ay,  ay.  ...  Weel,  as  I  wis  sayin', 
I  wudna  say  onythin'  ag'in'  ma  guid- 
sister,  Mistress  M'  Corkindale ;  but— 
but-" 

"Ye  needna  be  feart  sayin'  onythin' 
to  an'  auld  freen'  like  masel',  Mistress 
M'  Lerie.  May  I  dee  this  vera  meenit  if 
I  ever — " 

"I  ken  that,  Mistress  Munro,  I  ken 


30  MRS.   M'LERIE 

that,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  gently.  "I 
ken  ye  wudna  repeat  onythin'  I  tell't 
ye." 

''No'  if  I  wis  to  be  tortured  on  the 
rack,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  who  was  fond 
of  reading  Foxe's  "Book  of  Martyrs." 

"I  left  yin  o'  ma  paircels  on  the 
rack,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  "but  I  got 
it  the  next  day." 

"I  didna  mean  that  kin'  o'  rack. 
I  meant  the  rack  fur— fur  streechin' 
folk." 

"Oh,  ay.  ...  Mphm.  .  .  .  Aweel,  I 
wis  gaun  to  tell  ye  aboot  whit  I  got  at 
the  fairm,  Mistress  Munro." 

"An'  whit  wis  that?" 

"It  wis—  Mind,  I  'm  no  sayin'  ony- 
thin' ag'in'  ma  guid-sister,  Mistress 
M'Corkindale.  Mind  that!  ...  But 
whit  think  ye  I  got  fur  ma  supper?" 

"She  didna  gi'e  ye  jist  a  plain  tea?" 

"Plain  tea!    My!    I  wud  ha'e  been 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  31 

gled  o '  that,  Mistress  Munro,  I  wud  ha  'e 
been  gledo'  that!" 

"Whit  did  she  gi'e  ye?" 

"A  biled  egg  an'  a— a  cup  o*  co- 
co-a ! ' '  cried  Mrs.  M'  Lerie. 

"Co-co-a?" 

"Ay!  neither  mair  nor  less!  An'  I 
wis  that  dry !  .  .  .  Aw,  Mistress  Munro, 
did  ye  ever  get  a  big  cup  o '  co-co-a  when 
ye  wis  wearyin' — ay,  jist  wearyin' — fur 
a  guid  cup  o '  tea  1 ' ' 

"I  'in  thenkfu'  to  he  in  the  poseetion 
to  say  I  never  did ! ' '  replied  Mrs.  Munro, 
forcibly.  * '  Weel,  weel ! ' '  she  added,  and 
shook  her  head  despairingly. 

' '  That  's  whit  /  got, ' '  said  Mrs.  M'  Le- 
rie. "Ay,  an'  that  's  the  only  drink  I 
got  a'  the  time  I  wis  awa'— CO-CO-A!" 

"Co-co-A!" 

"Jist  CO-CO-A!  .  .  .  Mistress  M' Cork- 
indale  said  it  wis  the  only  drink  that 
wisna  entirely  deleerious." 


32  MRS.  M'LERIE 

1 1  Ye  mean  deleteerious. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  But  that  *s  whit 
she  said,  onywey.  .  .  .  An'  co-co-a  's  a 
thing  I  canna  thole ! ' ' 

"Dearie  me!  Nae  wnnner  ye  didna 
enjye  yersel ',  Mrs.  M'  Lerie. ' ' 

"I  never  said  I  didna  enjye  inasel'! 
An'  faur  be  it  frae  me  to  say  a  word 
ag'in'— " 

"Weel,  weel,"  said  Mrs.  Munro, 
soothingly.  "I  suppose  Mistress 
M'Corkindale  an'  her  man  are  whit  ye 
micht  ca'  converts." 

1 1  They  wisna  diverts,  onywey. ' ' 

"I  mean  converts  to  CO-CO-A,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro. 

"Nae  doot!"  Mrs.  M' Lerie  replied. 
"The  twa  o'  them  wis  jist  daft  fur  it. 
I  wis  wunnerin'  if  it  wis  the  COCOA  that 
gi'ed  Maister  M'  Corkindale  his  squeakie 
v'ice.  .  .  .  But  I  maun  say  he  aye  tuk 
a  wee  drappie  speerits  afore  he  gaeol  to 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  33 

his  bed.  No '  that  he  ever  said,  '  Here  's 
t '  ye ! '  Na !  But  f aur  be  it  f rae  me 
to-" 

"A'  the  same,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Munro,  "ye  wud  ha'e  a  fine  healthy  life 
at  the  f  airm. ' ' 

"Mphm!" 

* '  Ye  wud  get  the  mulk  warm  f  rae  the 
coos?" 

* '  Ay,  but  I  prefer  it  cauld  i '  the  can. ' ' 

Mrs.  Munro  laughed.  Then  she  said : 
"An'  ye  wud  get  eggs  new  laid." 

"Fresh  is  guid  enough  fur  me." 

"Ay.  But  it  maun  be  fine  to  sit  doon 
to  yer  breakfast,  kennen  the  eggs  wis 
laid  that  vera  mornin ' ! " 

"Maybe.  ...  It  's  no'  vera  fine 
hearin'  them  bein'  laid  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  mornin'." 

"Tits!  Ye  cudna  hear  an  egg  bein' 
laid,  Mistress  M'Lerie!" 

"Cud  I  no 'I  .  .  .  I  tell  ye,  Mistress 


34  MRS.   M'LERIE 

Munro,  I  heard  the  beasts  cryin'  'Cock- 
a-leerie-law '  every  mornin'— ay,  even 
on  the  Sawbath!" 

* '  Och !    That  wud  be  the  cocks. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  Whitever  it  wis, 
it  begood  aboot  three  i'  the  mornin', 
an'  I  never  boot  an  e'e  efter  that. 
Aw,  Mistress  Munro,  it  's  a  sair  job 
bidin '  at  a  f airm  when  ye  're  no '  used  to 
it!" 

"But  ye  wud  ha'e  some  nice  walks 
through  the  day,  Mistress  M'Lerie." 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  shook  her  head. 

' '  Is  't  no '  a  bonny  place  Kinbuckie  f ' ' 
Mrs.  Munro  inquired. 

* '  I  never  said  it  wisna  bonny. ' ' 

"Weel?" 

"Aw,  naethin'." 

"But  did  ye  no'  gang  ony  walks?" 

"Yinst." 

"Wis  that  a'?" 

"Ay,  that  wis  a'." 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  35 

Mrs.  Munro  looked  inquiringly  at  her 
friend. 

After  a  long  silence,  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
said  impressively :  * '  It  wis  a  goat. ' ' 

"A  whit?" 

"A  goat— a  wild  goat." 

*  *  Mercy  me !  ...  Did  it  dunch  ye  ? " 

"It  tried  it.  Ay,  an'  it  chased  me 
fur  near  a  mile!  I  thocht  I  wis  dune 
fur!" 

"But  did  ye  no'  try  to  frichten  it 
awa'?  Did  ye  no  turn  roon' an' face  it, 
as  it  were?" 

' '  Face  it,  Mistress  Munro !  If  ye  had 
seen  thon  awfu'  beast  loupin'  aboot  like 
mad  an'  tryin'  to  bore  holes  in  ye  wi' 
its  f richtsome  horns,  ye  wudna  be  talkin ' 
aboot  facin'  it!  Facin'  it?  Ma  certy! 
I  wud  as  shin  face  a  ragin',  roarin' 
lion!" 

"Weel,  weel,"  said  Mrs. Munro,  sooth- 
ingly, "I  daursay  ye  wis  wice  to  rin 


36  MRS.   M'LERIE 

fur 't.  Discreetion  is  the  better  pairt  o ' 
valor,  ye  ken. ' ' 

1  *  Mphm.  But  I  'm  thinkin '  it  wud  be 
better  if  folk  kept  their  wild  goats 
chained.  Ay ! ' ' 

"But  ye  escaped,  Mistress  M'Lerie." 

"I  escaped,  as  ye  say,  Mistress  Munro 
—an'  nae  mair.  When  I  won  back  to 
the  fairm  an'  yin  o'  the  lassies  got  a 
grup  o'  the  beast,  I  sank  doon  on  the 
doorstep  an '  thocht  I  wud  never  get  ma 
breith  again. ' ' 

"Ye  wud  be  gey  warm  furbye." 

"Warm!  I  wis  jist  meltin',  an'  yet 
it  wis  a  kin '  o '  cauld  warmness.  An '  fur 
twa  days  I  wis  jist  shakin'  an'  trim'lin' 
an'  cudna  tak'  ma  meat." 

' '  Dearie  me !  Did  Mistress  M'  Corkin- 
dale  no'  gi'e  ye  onythin'  to  help  ye — a 
wee  taste  speerits  f  Eh  ? ' ' 

"There  's  nae  drink  in  her  hoose  ex- 
cep'  fur  her  man.  But  I  wudna  ha'e 


THE  COUNTRY  VISIT  37 

tooken  it  onywey.  She  gi  'ed  me  co-co-a, 
an'— an'  I  wud  ha'e  gi'ed  five  shullin's 
fur  a  dish  o'  tea.  But  that  wisna  a', 
Mistress  Munro,  that  wisna  a'." 

"Wis  't  no'!" 

"Na.  Her  an'  her  man  laucht  till  I 
thocht  they  had  baith  gane  clean  daft." 

" Laucht  at  ye?" 

*  *  Jist  that.  They  tried  to  gar  me  be- 
lieve it  wis  a  tame  goat— a  tame  goat— 
an '  it  wis  jist  wantin '  to  play  wi '  me.  A 
tame  goat — a  TAME— 

"But  maybe  it  wis  a  tame  goat,  Mis- 
tress M'Lerie." 

For  once  in  her  life,  Mrs.  M'Lerie's 
face  lowered  on  her  friend.  < '  I— I  wisht 
ye  had  seen  the  beast  as  near  as  I  did ! ' ' 
she  cried  indignantly. 

"Aw,  weel,  I  suppose  ye  're  richt 
aboot  it  bein '  a  wild  yin. ' ' 

"I  suppose  I  am." 

There  was  a  somewhat  uncomfortable 


38  MRS.  M'LERIE 

pause,  and  Mrs.  Munro  made  an  effort 
to  change  the  subject.  "An'  whit  did 
ye  dae  the  ither  days  ? ' '  she  inquired. 

"I  bided  in  the  hoose." 

"Wis  it  wat!" 

"Na,  it  wisna  wat,"  replied  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  stiffly.  Then,  suddenly,  seeing 
her  old  friend's  distressed  expression, 
she  let  her  good  humor  return.  With  a 
laugh,  she  said:  "Ye  see,  Mistress 
Munro,  I  didna  feel  I  wis  needin'  ony 
mair  exercise  that  week. ' ' 

Mrs.  Munro  laughed  also,  and  rose  to 
go.  "Ye  're  gled  to  be  hame,  onywey," 
she  said. 

*  *  'Deed,  ay ! "  returned  Mrs.  M*  Lerie, 
heartily.  And  as  her  friend  left  the 
house  she  called  after  her:  "Mind,  Mis- 
tress Munro,  I  never  said  I  didna  enjye 
maselV 


Ill 

MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  zoo 

DAE  ye  mean  to  tell  me,  Mistress 
M'Lerie,  that  ye  Ve  never  been 
inside  a  zoo  I ' '  cried  Mrs.  Munro,  falling 
back  in  her  chair,  staring  at  her  friend, 
and  emphasizing  her  astonishment  by 
throwing  up  her  hands,  one  of  which 
grasped  a  slip  of  orange-colored  paper. 

"Never!"  was  the  solemn  reply. 

"But  ye  '11  ha'e  been  in  a  traivelin' 
menagerie,  maybe  ? ' ' 

"Nor  that,  either.  But  I  Ve  been 
twicet  in  a  paronama,  an'- 

"Whit  's  that  ye  say!" 

"A  paronama,  Mistress  Munro,— a 
kin'  o'  muckle  pictur,  ye  ken.  An'  I 
wis  yinst— 

39 


40  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Aw,  ye  mean  a  panorama." 

"Ay,  that  '11  be  it.  An'  I  wis  yinst 
near  inside  an  asquarian— 

"Aquarium." 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  As  I  wis  tellin' 
ye,  I  wis  yinst  near  inside  an  aquarian. ' ' 

"An'  whit  wey  did  ye  no'  gang  richt 
inside  ? ' ' 

"Weel,  ye  see,  I  gaed  wi'  Mistress 
M*  Taggart— puir  wumman !  She  's  been 
deid  mony  a  year,  but  she  wis  he'rty 
enough  then— an'  she  wis  that  stoot, 
puir  buddy !  she  cudna  win  through  the 
whurly  thing  whaur  they  tuk  the  money. 
The  man  wis  fur  openin '  the  big  door  to 
let  her  in,  but  we  wis  baith  that  affrontit, 
we  jist  gaed  stracht  hame  to  hide  wur 
rid  faces." 

"That  wis  a  sad  job,"  said  Mrs. 
Munro.  "I  mind  Mistress  M' Taggart 
fine.  A  dacent  wumman  she  wis,  an* 
aye  cheery,  conseederin'  the  burden  laid 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    41 

upon  her,  as  it  were.  .  .  .  But  if  ye  're 
ready  noo,  Mistress  M'Lerie,  we  '11  awa' 
an '  ha  'e  a  keek  at  the  beasts. ' ' 

"Are  ye  shair  the  tucket  's  a'  richt?" 
Mrs.  M'Lerie  inquired.  "I  aye  ha'e 
ma  doots  aboot — 

"Ye  needna  be  feart.  As  I  tell't  ye, 
ma  man  got  it  frae  the  lion-tamer  when 
he  wis  daein'  a  bit  plumber  work  at  the 
Zoo,  the  ither  day.  It  's  jist  as  guid  as 
money  at  the  door." 

"Weel,  weel,  I  '11  say  nae  mair,  Mis- 
tress Munro,  I  '11  sae  nae  mair,  excep' 
that  I  yinst  got  a  free  tucket  fur  a  ba- 
zaur,  an'  I  shin  fun'  oot  it  wis  jist  a 
trap  to  get  me  inside.  I  didna  get  oot 
free,  I  can  tell  ye ! " 

"Aw,  I  mind  a'  aboot  the  bazaur," 
said  Mrs.  Munro,  rising  from  her 
friend's  easy-chair,  and  smoothing  down 
the  front  of  her  skirt.  *  *  But  I  can  prom- 
ise ye,  ye  '11  ha'e  nae  cause  to  regret 


42  MRS.  M'LERIE 

peyin'  a  veesit  to  the  Zoo.  Noo  we  best 
be  hurryin',  or  we  '11  no'  ha'e  time  to 
see  a'  the  beasts." 

"I  'm  shair  I  dinna  ken  whit  ma 
man  '11  say  aboot  it,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie,  as  she  left  the  house  with  her  friend. 
"He  's  that  parteeclar." 

i  l  Toots !  There  's  nae  innocenter  en- 
jyment  nor  the  Zoo.  'Deed,  I  micht  say 
it  wis  an  enjyment  lairgely  freequented 
wi'  meenisters.  So  ye  needna  be  feart, 
Mistress  M'Lerie." 

"Weel,  I  maun  be  hame  in  guid  time 
fur  to  get  his  tea  ready." 

"I  '11  see  to  that,  Mistress  M'Lerie. 
Dinna  fash  yersel ' !  I  '11  no '  let  ye  be 
late.  Jist  pit  yer  trust  in  me. ' ' 

Somewhat  relieved  of  her  varied  fore- 
bodings, Mrs.  M'Lerie  hastened  along- 
side her  friend,  and  in  about  twenty 
minutes  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Zoo. 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    43 

Mrs.  Munro,  not  without  some  show 
of  dignity  and  importance,  presented 
her  orange  slip  at  the  window  of  the 
pay-box. 

A  hand  pushed  it  back  to  her,  and  a 
polite  voice  said :  *  *  Admits  in  the  even- 
ing only." 

"Whit  's  that?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Munro. 

"This  pass  is  not  available  in  the 
afternoon— only  in  the  evening." 

"Whit  wey  that?"  she  demanded. 

"It  's  the  rule,  ma'am,"  said  the  po- 
lite voice. 

"The  rule?" 

1 1  Yes.    Kindly  make  way,  ma  'am. ' ' 

A  number  of  people  were  waiting  ad- 
mission, and,  choking  with  indignation, 
Mrs.  Munro  pushed  past  them,  followed 
by  her  puzzled  companion. 

"Is  onythin'  wrang?"  asked  the  lat- 
ter, when  they  halted  in  the  open  air. 


44  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"He  said  the  tucket  wis  fur  the 
evenin'  only,"  gasped  Mrs.  Munro. 

* '  An '  wud  he  no '  let  us  in  T ' 

"Mphm!  .  .  .  Fine  ham!" 

"I— I  wis  feart  it  wis  a  trap,"  said 
Mrs.  M'Lerie,  sadly.  "An'  I  thocht  it 
wis  gey  suspeecious-like  when  the  man 
wis  hidin'  hissel'  in  thon  boax  place. 
Ay,  I  wis  feart  it  wis  a  trap. ' ' 

"Ach,  you  an'  yer  traps!"  cried  Mrs. 
Munro,  in  an  outburst  of  irritation. 
"You  an'  yer—  Oh,  I  'm  shair  I  ask 
yer  paurdon,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  Ye 
maun  excuse  me  bein'  pit  oot,  as  it 
were,"  she  added  more  gently,  noticing 
her  friend's  hurt  expression.  "I  ask 
yer  paurdon  humbly. ' ' 

"It  's  grantit,  it  's  grantit,"  said  Mrs. 
M'Lerie  at  once.  "An'  I  suppose  we 
best  jist  gang  haine  an'  ha'e  a  dish  o' 
tea,  Mistress  Munro." 

' '  Na,  na !    I  invitet  ye  fur  to  see  the 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    45 

wild  beasts,  an'  ye  're  gaun  to  see  the 
wild  beasts— ay,  if  I  dee  this  vera 
meenit ! ' ' 

"Ah,  but  ye  mauna  pit  yersel'  aboot, 
Mistress  Munro,  ye  mauna  pit  yersel' 
aboot.  I  'm  no'  sayin'  I  'm  no'  wantin' 
to  see  the  wild  beasts— I  'm  no'  sayin' 
that— but  ye  mauna  pit  yersel'  aboot." 

Mrs.  Munro,  however,  did  not  wait  to 
hear  the  end  of  her  companion's  apol- 
ogy, but  approached  the  pay-box  once 
more,  and  said : 

"Haw!  you  in  the  boax,  whit  's  the 
price  fur  twa!" 

"Adults  or  juveniles?"  the  polite 
voice  inquired. 

"I  '11  juvenile  ye !"  cried  Mrs.  Munro. 
*  *  We  're  twa  dacent  mairrit  weemen,  an ' 
if  ye  wis  oot  yer  boax  I  wud  shin  let  ye 
ken  that,  ye— ye— ye  cooard!" 

"Sixpence  each,"  said  the  polite 
voice,  calmly. 


46  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"Saxpence  each?  Aweel,  there  's  a 
shullin'!  But  I  doot  if  the  hale  j  ing- 
bang  o'  yer  beasts  is  worth  it.  .  .  . 
Come  awa,'  Mistress  M-Lerie." 

" Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  the  polite 
voice.  "It  would  have  been  a  pity  to 
have  given  up  your  evening  pass,  be- 
cause it  admits  to  the  circus  as  well  as 
to  the  Zoo." 

"  D '  ye  tell  me  that  ? ' '  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Munro.  '  *  'Deed,  sir,  I  'm  vexed  fur 
whit  I  said.  Ye  see,  I  thocht  ye  wis 
gettin'  the  best  o'  me,  you  bein'  in  yer 
boax— concealed  frae  the  public  gaze,  as 
it  were.  Yer  paurdon,  sir,  an'  thenk 
ye  kindly. ' ' 

"All  right,  ma'am.  Pass  in,"  said 
the  polite  voice,  with  something  like  a 
chuckle. 

"Come  awa',  Mistress  M'Lerie," 
cried  Mrs.  Munro.  "Dinna  be  feart. 
There  's  nae  trap,  an'  the  young  man 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO   47 

in  the  boax  isna  whit  ye  thoeht  he 
wis." 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  followed  her  friend  into 
the  Zoo,  scarcely  hearing  the  Matter's  fur- 
ther complimentary  remarks  on  the 
"young  man  in  the  boax,"  and  halted 
just  inside  the  swing-doors,  staring 
about  her. 

' '  Weel,  whit  dae  ye  think  o '  this  ? "  in- 
quired her  guide  in  the  patronizing 
voice  of  one  who  has  "been  there  be- 
fore. ' ' 

"I— I  dinna  see  ony  meenisters,"  said 
Mrs.  M'Lerie,  doubtfully. 

"Dae  ye  no'?  That 's  unusual.  But, 
efter  a',  ye  cam'  to  see  wild  beasts,  an' 
there  's  plenty  o '  them,  I  warrant  ye ! 
Come  awa'  an'  see  the  lions  an'  the 
ieagurs. ' ' 

"Thenk  ye,  I  think  I  '11  jist  bide  here, 
Mistress  Munro,  I  '11  jist  bide  here." 

"Ye  're  no'  feart,  are  ye?" 


48  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Na;  I  'm  no'  feart." 

"Weel,  come  awa'  an'  see  the  beasts 
close.  They  '11  no '  hurt  ye.  They  canna 
win  oot  their  cages.  See!  Thonder  a 
lion!" 

"  Ay,  I  see  it  rale  weel  frae  here,  thenk 
ye." 

"Thon  's  no'  the  biggest  lion." 

"Is  't  no'?  It  's  gey  big.  I  doot  it  's 
ett  up  folk  in  its  day." 

"No'  it!"  cried  Mrs.  Munro,  laugh- 
ing. "Come  awa',  an'  dinna  be  feart." 
And  she  led  the  unwilling  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
toward  the  cages.  "Is  that  no'  a  noble 
beast  1 ' '  she  asked,  pointing  to  a  captive. 

"Ay,  it  's  gey  noble.  Oh,  it  's  wantin ' 
to  get  at  us !  It  's  roarin '  I " 

"Ach,  ye  're  quite  safe!  Mercy  me! 
ye  're  a'  shakin',  Mistress  M'Lerie." 

"I  dinna  like  the  beasts'  booin'.  It  's 
frichtsome.  Are  ye  shair  the  cages  is 
strong?" 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    49 

' ' Ob,  the  cages  is  a'  richt.  But  maybe 
we  best  gang  an'  see  some  o'  tbe  ither 
beasts  first." 

' '  'Deed,  ay ! "  said  Mrs.  M'  Lerie, 
eagerly.  "Is  there  nae  wee  yins?" 

' '  Wee  yins !    Whit  kin '  o '  wee  yins ! ' ' 

"Rabbits  an'  hens,  an'  maybe  white 
mice. ' ' 

"I  doot  it.  Ye  see,  this  is  a  place  fur 
wild  beasts— wild  beasts  in  a  tame  con- 
deetion,  so  to  speak, ' '  Mrs.  Munro  added 
hastily,  noting  the  alarm  on  the  other's 
face.  "We  '11  gang  to  the  ither  end  an' 
see  the  elephants  an '  caymels, ' '  she  went 
on,  taking  her  friend's  arm. 

"It  's  no'  the  first  time  I  Ve  seen  an 
elephant,  onywey,"  observed  Mrs.  M'  Le- 
rie, plucking  up  courage.  ' '  I  yinst  seen 
twa-three  in  a  procession,  an'  whiles 
I  Ve  seen  picturs  in  the  'Sunday  Sen- 
tinel.' In  fac,'  I  wud  ken  an  elephant 
ony  day.  Thon  yin  's  gotten  an'  awfu' 


50  MRS.   M'LERIE 

wee  trunk  fur  its  size,  has  it  no',  Mis- 
tress Munro  ?" 

1 1  Tits,  Mistress  M'Lerie!  That  's  its 
tail!" 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie,  the  least  thing  annoyed. 

"Come  roon'  here,"  said  Mrs.  Munro, 
who  had  stopped  to  purchase  a  penny- 
worth of  biscuits,  "an'  we  '11  feed  the 
beast. ' ' 

' '  Preserve  us ! "  cried  Mrs.  M*  Lerie,  a 
minute  later,  "I  thocht  we  wis  gaun  to 
be  swallowed  up  like  Jonah." 

"It  wisna  an  elephant  that  got  Jo- 
nah!" 

"I  ken  that.  But  thon  beast's  mooth 
gi  'ed  me  a  f richt !  An '  whit  awf u '  feet ! 
Come  awa'  quick,  Mistress  Munro.  I 
dinna  like  it.  If  thon  beast  wis  gettin' 
loose,  it  wud  champ  us  like  tatties. ' ' 

"Ye  needna  be  feart,  Mistress  M' Le- 
rie." 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    51 

"I  never  said  I  wis  feart;  but— but 
prevention  's  better  nor  cure,  as  I  yinst 
read  on  a  bottle  o '  kair-ile  in  a  doctor 's 
shope. ' ' 

"It  's  a  true  savin'  that,  but  I  think 
ye  're  takin'  yer  pleesure  ower  solemn- 
like.  Hoo  dae  ye  like  the  cay- 
mels?"  Mrs.  Munro  inquired,  after  a 
pause. 

*  *  I  think  they  're  gey  like  me,  Mistress 
Munro, ' '  returned  Mrs.  M;  Lerie,  with  a 
sudden  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"Hoo  that?" 

"They  're  takin'  their  pleesure  ower 
solemn-like !  Ha !  ha ! " 

"My!  that  's  a  guid  bit  joke!  Ha! 
ha !  ha !  'Deed,  ay !  Ha !  ha !  Mphm ! 
Ye  're  beginnin'  to  enjye  yersel',  maybe? 
Eh?" 

"I  am  that,  Mistress  Munro,  I  am 
that !  Though  I  maun  alloo  I  wis  a  wee 
thing  frichtit  at  the  first.  But  I  daursay 


52  MRS.  M'LERIE 

I  'm  gettin'  used  to  the  danger.     Oh, 

mercy !    Whit  's  thon  beast  I ' ' 
' '  It  's  a  species  o '  monkey. ' ' 
"A  speeshiso  monkey?     Weel,  it  's 

fully  as  heathenish  as  its  name,  an'  I  'in 

no'    gaun   near   it— the   nesty   girnin' 

beast!" 

•  ••••• 

"Is  there  nae  bonny  beasts  in  the 
Zoo,  Mistress  Munro?"  asked  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  half-an-hour  later. 

1 1 1  canna  say  there  is.  But  there  's  a 
wheen  bonny  birds." 

"Aw,  I  wud  like  fine  to  see  the  birds, 
so  I  wud ! ' ' 

' '  I  dinna  think  the  birds  is  vera  inter- 
restin',  but  we  '11  ha'e  a  keek  at  them. 
.  .  .  There  ye  are ! ' '  And  Mrs.  Munro 
waved  her  hand  toward  a  number  of 
cages  occupied  by  birds  of  more  or  less 
gaudy  plumage. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  stood  rapt  in  admira- 
tion, till  her  friend  observed  pleasantly : 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    53 

* '  They  beat  yer  stuffed  birds,  Mistress 
M'  Lerie,  dae  they  no '  ? " 

"I  wudna  say  that,"  she  returned 
sharply.  ' l  Na,  I  wudna  say  that.  Thae 
birds  is  vera  fine  an'  numerous,  but 
they  're  no'  jist  up  to  ma  birds,  Mistress 
Munro.  Na,  na ! " 

"But  luk  at  thon  big  yin— it  's  ca'ed 
a  toucan— 

"I  'm  no'  heedin'  if  it  's  ca'ed  a  tin 
can— it  's  no'  up  to  ony  o'  ma—" 

"But  see  thon  gorgeous  yin  wi' 
the-" 

"Na,  na!  There  's  nane  o'  them  can 
tich  ma  birds  fur— fur  feenish."  And 
Mrs.  M' Lerie  moved  away  from  the 
cages. 

"I  hope  ye  're  no'  offendit,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  following  her.  "I  had  nae 
thocht  o'  insultin'  yer  birds  when  I 
said-" 

"I  'm  no '  the  least  offendit  or  insultit, 
Mistress  Munro,"  the  other  replied; 


54  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"but,  to  tell  ye  truth,  I  'm  feart  I  '11  be 
late  fur  ma  man  the  nicht." 

' '  Oh,  but  ye  Ve  no '  seen  hauf  the  Zoo 
yet.  Ye  Ve  no'  seen  the  serpents  nor 
the-" 

"Thenk  ye  kindly;  but  I  Ve  got  to 
get  sassingers  fur  ma  man  's  tea,  an'  it 
micht  pit  me  aff  cookin'  them  if  I  wis 
lukin '  at  boar-constructors  an '  ither  ter- 
rifyin'  reptiles  the  noo.  I  wish  ye  wud 
tell  me  the  time,  Mistress  Munro." 

"Jist  come  an'  ha'e  a  keek  at  the 
zebra,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  Ye  '11  like  the 
zebra.  It  's  a  kin'  o'  strippit  cuddy, 
an'-"  - 

1 '  Thenk  ye,  thenk  ye ;  but  I  doot  it  's 
time  I  wis  awa'  hame.  .  .  .  Whit  's  the 
time,  if  ye  please?"  Mrs.  M'Lerie  in- 
quired of  an  elderly  man  who  happened 
to  be  standing  beside  her. 

' '  Twenty  past  five, ' '  he  replied,  after 
consulting  his  watch. 


MRS.  M'LERIE  VISITS  THE  ZOO    55 

"I  maun  gang,  I  maun  gang!"  cried 
Mrs.  M'Lerie. 

"Weel,  if  ye  maun  gang,  ye  maun 
gang,"  said  Mrs.  Munro.  "I  suppose 
ye  conseeder  yer  man  afore  onythin'." 

"  Afore  beasts,  onywey,"  returned 
Mrs.  M' Lerie,  seriously.  ' '  No '  but  whit 
the  beasts  is  rale  fine  an'  interrestin'," 
she  added,  lest  she  should  seem  ungrate- 
ful. 


IV 

THE    RAFFLE    TICKET 

IHA'E  ma  doots,  Mistress  Munro,  I 
ha'e  ma  doots,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
wagging  her  head  solemnly. 

Her  visitor  smiled  placidly  as  she 
smoothed  a  crease  from  her  best  gown, 
which  had  wrinkled  slightly  at  her 
knees.  ' '  Ye  sud  try  anither  dish  o '  tea, 
Mistress  M'Lerie,"  she  said  kindly. 

* '  I  cudna  tak '  anither  moothfu '.  But 
yer  ain  tea  's  oot.  See  Js  yer  cup  .  .  . 
Ay,  an'  try  anither  biscuit.  Thur  yins 
is  ower  sweet  fur  me,  but  maybe  ye  like 
them." 

"Thenk  ye,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  help- 
ing herself.  "Weel,  ye  wis  savin '- 

"I  wis  sayin'  I  had  ma  doots,  Mis- 

56 


57 


tress  Munro,  I  wis  savin'  I  had  ma 
doots. ' '  And  Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  having  laid 
aside  her  cup,  stood  up  and  carefully 
shook  the  crumbs  from  her  lap  into  the 
fireplace.  Kesuming  her  seat,  she  raised 
the  skirt  of  her  dress,  and  plunged  her 
hand  deep  into  the  big  pocket  in  her 
petticoat.  She  produced  an  old-fash- 
ioned and  worn  bag  purse,  from  which 
she  extracted  a  small  slip  of  pinkish 
paper. 

' '  There  it  is ! ' '  she  exclaimed  mourn- 
fully, unfolding  the  paper.  "  There  it 
is!  Number—  Aw,  ye  can  read  the 
number  fur  yersel',  Mistress  Munro.  I 
cud  never  thole  feegures." 

"Sax  hunner  an'  forty- twa,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  when  she  had  inspected  the 
slip. 

"Mphm!  Sax  hunner  an'  forty-twa. 
I  daursay  ye  '11  be  richt.  Onywey,  I 
gi'ed  a  saxpence  fur  't;  an',  as  I  wis 


58  MRS.  M'LERIE 

tellin'  ye,  if  it  wins  the  prize  I  get  an 
organ. ' ' 

"Weel,  I  'm  shair  I  '11  be  rale  gled  if 
ye  get  the  organ,  Mistress  M*  Lerie.  An ' 
yer  man  '11  be  gey  prood." 

"I  ha'e  ma  doots,  Mistress  Munro,  I 
ha'e  ma  doots.  Fur  I  ken  he  's  no' 
haudin'  wi'  bazaurs  an'  rattles." 

"Baffles,"  corrected  Mrs.  Munro, 
mildly. 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  But  as  shair  's 
I  'm  here,  I  didna  ken  whit  I  wis  daein '. 
I  gaed  to  the  bazaur  on  Setterday  nicht, 
fur  I  wis  tell't  they  wis  gi'ein'  things 
awa'  fur  hauf  naethin',  an'  I  wis 
wantin'  to  buy  a  bit  coatie  fur  ma  son 
John's  wee  lassie.  Aw,  ye  never  seen 
a  bonnier  wean.  Aw,  she  's  that  like  her 
fayther  if  he  wisna  beardit.  Aw,  she's 
jist  like  thon  advertizement  fur  some 
kin'  o'  sape;  naw,  it  's  no'  sape,  it  's— 
Aweel,  I  canna  mind  the  noo— but  ye 


THE  RAFFLE  TICKET  59 

never  seen  a  bonnier  wean,  Mistress 
Munro. ' ' 

*  *  An '  did  ye  buy  the  coatie ! ' '  inquired 
the  visitor. 

"That's  whit  I  wis  gaun  fur  to  tell 
ye.  I—  Here  Mrs.  M'Lerie  rose  hur- 
riedly and  went  to  the  window.  A  van 
was  rattling  down  the  street. 

"  Na ;  it  's  jist  a  mulk-cairt, ' '  she  said, 
half  to  herself,  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief 
returned  to  her  friend. 

"Aweel,  Mistress  Munro,  I  didna  buy 
the  coatie,  fur  the  yin  I  wantit  wis 
ower  dear.  It  wis  a'  a  big  lee  aboot 
them  sellin'  aff  chape.  I  suppose  they 
wud  be  keepin'  the  things  fur  a  jungle 
sale.  But  I  bocht  a  pair  o '  wool  booties 
wi'  bew  ribbons.  My!  they  wis  that 
tastey ! ' ' 

"Wis  they?  " 

' '  Ay ;  an '  I  bate  the  leddy  doon  nine- 
pence.  ' ' 


60  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"D'ye  tell  me  that,  Mistress  M'Le- 
rie?  " 

"Ay;  as  shair  's  I  'm  here.  Weel, 
efter  I  bocht  the  booties  I  thocht  I  wad 
jist  tak'  a  bit  daunner  roon';  an'  roon 
I  gaed,  an'  priced  a  guid  wheen  things, 
till  I  cam'  to  a  place  whaur  lads  wis 
tryin'  fur  to  trim  hats  an'  lasses  wis 
tryin'  fur  to  hammer  nails — maistly 
their  ain  nails,  I'm  thinkin'!— aw,  I 
maun  ha'e  ma  bit  joke,  Mistress  Munro 
—in  wudd !  Sirs,  the  day !  ye  never  seen 
sic  a  daft-like  sicht,  an'  I  lauched  till  I 
wis  that  warm  an'  short  o'  breith  I 
cudna  staun.  An'  I  had  jist  tooken  a 
sate,  an'  wis  sittin'  wipin'  ma  broo  an' 
pechin',  when  a  vera  respectable-lukin ' 
young  man  cam'  up  to  me  an'  says, 
quite  genteel-like,  says  he : 

1 l  l  Wud  ye  like  to  buy  a  tucket  fur  an 
organ,  ma'am1?  '  Thae  wis  his  vera 
words. ' ' 


THE   RAFFLE   TICKET  61 

"An  American  organ?  "  put  in  Mrs. 
Munro. 

"I  dinna  mind.  Onywey,  it  wis  an 
organ  fur  playin'  on.  Weel,  the  young 
man  tell't  me  if  I  bocht  a  saxpenny 
tucket  I  wud  maybe  get  the  twinty-five- 
pun'  organ  the  bazaur  folk  wis  rattlin'. 
An-" 

"  'Rafflin't'  ye  mean,  Mistress  M'Le- 
rie. ' ' 

"Ay,  it  's  a'  yin.  .  .  .  An'  I  says 
to  the  young  man,  says  I :  '  Whaur  's  the 
organ?  '  An'  he  tell't  me  it  wisna  in 
the  bazaur,  but  he  wud  sweer  it  wis  a' 
richt,  an'  if  I  bocht  a  tucket  I  wud  ha'e 
as  guid  a  chance  as  onybody  leevin'  o' 
gettin'  it.  He  wis  a  rale  saft-spoken 
young  man,  an'  that  genteel,  an'  I  wis 
that  het  an'  wearit,  an'  afore  I  kent 
whit  I  wis  daein'  he  wis  awa'  wi' 
ma  saxpence,  an'  I  wis  sittin'  alane 
wi'  the  tucket.  ,  An'  I  ha'e  ma 


62  MRS.  M'LERIE 

doots,    Mistress    Munro,    I    ha'e    ma 
doots." 

"  Oh,  but  ye  needna  be  feart,  Mis- 
tress M'Lerie.  They  '11  no'  cheat  ye," 
said  her  friend,  soothingly.  "The  ba- 
zaur  wis  fur  a  kirk,  wis  't  no  "?  ' 

"Ay.  But  that  's  no'  whit  's  vexin' 
me.  I  'm  no '  feart  o '  bein '  cheatit.  They 
best  no'  try  that  gemm  wi'  me!  Na! 
.  .  .  But,  ye  see,  Mistress  Munro,  ma 
man  didna  ken  I  gaed  to  the  bazaur,  an ' 
I  wudna  ha'e  been  there  if  it  hadna  been 
I  wis  wantin'  a  coatie  fur  ma  son  John's 
wee  lassie,  an'  ma  man  's  no'  haudin' 
wi'  bazaurs,  faur  less  rattles ;  an'— an'- 
oh !  Mistress  Munro,  whit  wud  I  say  to 
him  if  they  brocht  the  organ  to  the 
hoose !  ' '  Mrs.  M*  Lerie  looked  a  miser- 
able inquiry  at  her  visitor,  and  then, 
shaking  her  head,  returned  the  ticket  to 
her  purse  and  the  latter  to  her  pocket. 

"Hoots,  toots!     Mistress  M' Lerie," 


THE   RAFFLE  TICKET  63 

said  the  other,  cheerfully.  "I  'm  shair 
yer  man 's  no '  that  parteeclar. ' ' 

"Ah,  ye  dinna  ken  him,  Mistress 
Munro.  I  never  kent  a  man  as  stric'  as 
hissel  '.  D  'ye  no '  mind  hoo  he  left  Mais- 
ter  M*  Cubbin  's  kirk  twal '  year  syne  be- 
cause they  wis  gaun  to  ha'e  a  bazaur? 
An'  ye  never  met  a  better  man  nor 
Maister  M'  Cubbin— never !  ' 

' '  Ay ;  but  yer  man 's  maybe  no '  jist  as 
stric'  as  he  wis,  Mistress  M'Lerie?  ' 

"Is  he  no'?  I  ha'e  ma  doots,  Mis- 
tress Munro,  I  ha'e  ma  doots.  Ay;  an' 
mony's  the  time  I've  heard  him  say  he 
wud  as  shin  pit  money  on  a  horse-race 
as  intil  a  disruption  sale." 

"Subscription  sale." 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  An'  whit  's  a 
rattle  but  a  disruption  sale?  It  's  jist 
the  same ;  ay,  there  's  no '  a  hair  o '  dif- 
ference 'twixt  the  twa.  Oh ! — oh,  there's 
a  cairt  stoppin'  at  the  close!  "  And 


64  MRS.  M'LERIE 

again  Mrs.  M'Lerie  hastened  to  the 
window,  to  find  that  it  was  only  the 
baker. 

*  *  Mercy  me !  ye  're  a '  trim  'lin ', ' '  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  when  her  hostess  returned 
to  her.  "Whit  'sado?  " 

"I  thocht  it  wis  the  organ,"  gasped 
Mrs.  M'Lerie.  "  Every  cairt  comin' 
alang  the  street  gars  ma  he'rt  loup  to  ma 
mooth.  Ye  see,  the  prizes  wis  to  be  de- 
cidet  the  day.  Miss  Paurley  tell't  me. 
Ma  man  's  her  fayther's  foresman,  ye 
ken,  an'  we  gang  to  Doctor  Jamieson's 
kirk.  An'  when  we  wis  comin'  oot  the 
kirk  on  Sawbath  she  cam'  up  to  me— 
fur  she's  rale  nice  an'  free— an'  she  says, 
says  she, '  I  seen  ye  at  the  bazaur. '  An' 
says  I,  'Whisht,  fur  ony  favor,  Miss 
Paurley.'  John  wis  ahint  me,  speakin' 
to  yin  o'  the  elders.  An'  Miss  Paurley 
gi'ed  a  bit  smile  and  whispers,  'I  hope 
ye  get  the  organ,  Mrs.  M'Lerie.  I  'm 


THE  RAFFLE  TICKET  65 

on  the  commytee,  an'  the  drawin'  o' 
prizes  is  on  Wensday,  so  I'll  gi'e  ye  a 
ca'  i'  the  efternune,  an'  tell  ye  if  ye've 
gotten  it.'  An'  then  she  gaed  aff,  an' 
John  cam'  furrit.  An'  I  cudna  mind 
a  word  o'  the  discoorse  fur  thinkin'  o' 
the  organ." 

"Oh,  ye  Ve  tooken  it  ower  muckle  to 
he'rt,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  Efter  a'  ye  '11 
maybe  no'  get  the  organ.  I'm  thinkin' 
it  's  a  guid  sign  when  Miss  Paurley 
hasna  came." 

"It  's  no'  vera  late  yet.  An*  she  's 
maybe  furgot  to  come,  an'  they  '11  send 
the  organ  wi'oot  warnin'.  An'  whit  '11 
I  dae  then?  They  '11  pit  the  organ  in, 
an'  it  '11  be  a  judgment  on  me  fur  gam'- 
lin'." 

"Na,  na.  It's  no'  as  bad  as  a'  that 
—if  ye  get  the  organ.  'Deed,  I  wud  be 
richt  thenkfu'  to  get  an  organ  fur  sax- 
pence.  An'— here!  Listen  to  me,  Mis- 


66  MRS.   M'LERIE 

tress  M'  Lerie, ' '  cried  her  visitor,  struck 
by  an  idea. 

"Eh?  " 

"Ye  wudna  need  to  tak'  the  organ  in 
the  hoose.  Ye  cud  get  them  to  tak'  it 
back  to  the  shope,  an*  ye  cud  sell  it  back 
to  them  chape,  an'  ye  cud  buy— oh !  Mis- 
tress M'  Lerie,  jist  think  whit  ye  cud  buy 
fur  yer  son  John's  wee  lassie." 

"Weel,  I  never!  '•  gasped  Mrs. 
M'  Lerie. 

"Whit  think  ye  o'  that?  "  asked  her 
friend,  gaily.   * '  There  a  notion  fur  ye !  ' 
she  added  proudly. 

Mrs.  M*  Lerie 's  highly  moral  feelings 
were  quite  swamped  by  the  flood  of  joy- 
ous possibilities.  She  saw  herself  with 
a  secret  store  of  wealth  from  which 
she  made  occasional  offerings  at  the 
shrine  of  her  little  granddaughter. 
"I'll  dae't!"  she  cried  at  last, 


THE  EAFFLE   TICKET  67 

"I  '11  dae  't!  When  the  organ  comes 
111-" 

"There  somebody  at  the  door,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro. 

"It  '11  be  Miss  Paurley,"  cried  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  and  fled  to  hear  the  news. 

'  *  Weel  ?  Ha  'e  ye  gotten  the  organ  I  ' ' 
inquired  Mrs.  Munro,  three  minutes 
later. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  silently  shook  her  head, 
choked  slightly,  and  rubbed  the  back  of 
her  hand  across  her  eyes. 

"That  's  an  unco  peety,"  said  Mrs* 
Munro,  gently. 

1 1  Miss  Paurley  brocht  me  a  rale  braw 
shawl  in  a  present,"  faltered  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  "  But— but  she  tell't  me  a  man 
in  P-P-Paisley  had  gotten  the  organ. 
Sirs  the  day!  An'  ma  son  John's  wee 
lassie—" 


68  MRS.   M'LERIE 

Her  friend  looked  sympathetic. 

"Weel,  weel,  it's  a'  by  noo.  An'  we 
canna  blame  onybody.  Thae  things  is 
aye  dune  fair,  as  fair  can  be,  so  we— 

"I  ha'e  ma  doots,  Mistress  Munro,  I 
ha  'e  ma  doots, ' '  sighed  Mrs.  M'  Lerie. 


V 

MRS.    MUNRO 'S    PARTY 


,  come  ben,  Mistress  M'Le- 
rie,' '  said  Mrs.  Munro,  eagerly.  1 1  It 
wis  rale  kind  o '  ye  to  come  early,  and  to 
bring  the  birds  wi'  ye.  'Deed,  it  wis 
mair  nor  or  'nar '  kind  o '  ye.  An '  ye  're 
that  warm ! ' ' 

"Ay,  I'm  warm,"  gasped  Mrs.  M* 
Lerie.  "I  never  thocht  the  birds  wis 
as  heavy  afore,"  she  added,  as  she  en- 
tered her  friend's  little  parlor. 

"Weel,  ye  cairrit  them  a  gey  lang 
road,  an '  I  'm  awf u '  obleeged  to  ye.  ... 
Sit  doon,  sit  doon  an'  rest  ye.  Pit  the 
birds  on  the  side  table.  Wud  ye  tak' 
jist  a  toothfu'  o'  speerits,  Mistress 
M' Lerie?  " 


70  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"Na,  na;  thenk  ye  kindly,  a'  the 
same,"  replied  the  visitor,  holding  up 
her  right  hand,  as  if  to  emphasize  her 
rejection  of  the  offer.  "  I'll  jist  sit  a 
wee  an '  get  ma  breith.  Hech !  sirs  the 
day !  I  never  thocht  the  birds  wis  hauf 
as  heavy." 

"I'm  rale  vexed  I  canna  gi'e  ye  a  dish 
o'  tea  jist  this  meenit,  but  if  ye '11  wait, 
I'll-" 

"Aw,  dinna  fash  yersel',  Mistress 
Munro,  dinna  fash  yersel'.  I  ken  ye 
maun  be  sair  thrang  the  day.  .  .  . 
Dinna  fash  yersel.'  I  'm  no'  heedin' 
aboot  tea.  I  cudna  drink  it  if  ye  wis  to 
poor  it  doon  ma  throat.  I  cudna,  reely. 
Ye  see,  I  cam'  roon*  to  help  ye  the  day— 
no*  to  mak'  mair  wark  fur  ye,  an'- 

"Weel,  it's  rale  kind  o'  ye.  An'  I 
wish  ye  wis  comin'  to  yer  supper  the 
nicht,"  said  Mrs.  Munro. 

"Aweel,  we'll  no'  say  ony  mair  aboot 


MRS.  MUNRO'S  PARTY  71 

that,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  in  tones  sug- 
gesting longing,  regret,  and  perhaps  res- 
ignation. "  Noo,"  she  continued,  ris- 
ing from  her  seat,  "  I'll  shin  ha'e  the 
birds  ready  fur  ye."  And  going  to  the 
table,  she  began  to  undo  the  large  parcel 
she  had  brought  with  her.  It  was 
wrapped  in  numerous  newspapers,  and 
tied  with  several  varieties  of  string, 
supplemented  by  some  yards  of  gray 
worsted. 

"  I  doot  I  wudna  get  a  job  in  a 
shope,"  remarked  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  with  a 
laugh.  "I  never  cud  mak'  a  nate  pair- 
eel." 

"I  think  ye've  made  a  vera  nate  pair- 
cel,  Mistress  M'Lerie,"  returned  her 
friend,  who  was  anxiously  watching  the 
undoing.  "An'  I  think  it's  maist  ex- 
tra or 'nar'  kind  o'  ye  to  len'  me  yer 
birds." 

1 '  Toots,  havers !  Mistress  Munro !  It 's 


72  MRS.  M'LERIE 

naethin'  ava'.  Of  coorse,  ye  ken,  I 
wudna  len'  ma  birds  to  anybody.  Nae 
fears !  But  you  an '  me  's  auld  f reen  's, 
Mistress  Munro— I'm  say  in'  we're  auld 
f  reen 's— an'  I  ken  ye  '11  tak'  guid  care  o' 
the  birds." 

"I  wull  that,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  I'll 
tak'  rale  guid  care  o'  yer  birds.  .  .  . 
My !  As  shair  's  I  'm  here,  I  never  seen 
sic  fine  birds !  ' 

Mrs.  M'Lerie,  having  removed  the 
wrappings,  gazed  with  great  gratifica- 
tion at  her  case  of  stuffed  birds,  and 
could  not  help  smiling  proudly  as  Mrs. 
Munro  poured  forth  her  eulogies. 

"  Mistress  M'Lerie,"  said  the  latter, 
enthusiastically,  "I've  seen  mony  birds, 
but  never  ony  like  thur !  ' 

"Och,  ye  're  jist  say  in'  that  fur  to 
please  me,  Mistress  Munro, ' '  murmured 
the  other,  delightedly. 

"  May  I  dee  this  vera  meenit!  "  ex- 


MRS.  MUNRO'S  PARTY  73 

claimed  Mrs.  Munro,  ''if  I  'm  no' 
speakin '  the  plain  truth !  An '  I  tell  ye 
I'm  rale  prood  to  ha'e  the  birds  sittin' 
on  the  wee  table  at  the  pairty,  an'  I  'm 
awfu'  obleeged  to  ye  fur  the  len'  o' 
them.  Thon  paurrit's  jist  glorious!  ': 

"It  's  no'  a  paurrit,  Mistress  Munro, 
it  's  a  bird  o'  Paradise.  The  yin  ablow 
it's  a  paurrit,  and  the  wee  yin  abin  it's 
a  hummin'-bird— it  mak's  a  bizz  like  a 
bum-bee— that  's  whit  I  wis  tell't,  ony- 
wey,  but  I  ha'e  nia  doots— an'  the  ither 
yin  's  a  nostreech,  an'—  " 

"Aw,  it's  no'  an  ostrich,  Mistress 
M'  Lerie, ' '  said  Mrs.  Munro,  smiling. 

"Is't  no'?  Weel,  I'm  shair  that  wis 
whit  Captain  Bawr  tell't  ma  man  when 
he  gi  'ed  him  the  birds.  Ay ;  I  'm  shair 
he  said  it  wis  a  nostreech." 

"Ostriches  is  lairge  beasts  wi'  lang 
legs  like  hens,  an'  ostrich  feathers  in 
their  tails. ' ' 


74  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"Are  they?  Maybe  ye 're  richt;  but 
I'm  shair  Captain  Bawr  said—" 

"Folk  can  ride  on  ostriches,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro. 

"Fine  ham!  "  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 

"But  I  Ve  seen  picturs  o'  folk  ridin' 
on  ostriches,"  Mrs.  Munro  insisted. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  gave  a  sniff.  "I  yinst 
seen  a  pictur  o'  a  man  ridin'  a  coke  on 
a  steeple,"  she  said  derisively. 

"But  I  seen  a  pictur  i'  the  'Sawbath 
Companion,'  '  returned  Mrs.  Munro, 
triumphantly.  "If  it  wisna  the  'Saw- 
bath  Companion,'  it  wis  the  'Sunday 
Treasury.' 

"Weel,  I  daursay  I'm  wrang,"  ad- 
mitted Mrs.  M'Lerie,  overcome  by  the 
evidence  against  her.  '  *  But  I  aye  thocht 
the  bird  wis  a  nostreech.  .  .  .  Maybe 
it's  a  young  yin,  jist  oot  the  egg,"  she 
suggested  hopefully. 

Mrs.  Munro  shook  her  head.     "Na, 


MRS.  MUNRO'S  PARTY  75 

na ;  an  ostrich 's  egg  's  f aur  bigger  nor 
yer  bird  wi'  a'  its  feathers.  I  yinst  seen 
an  ostrich's  egg  in  the  museum." 

"Mphm!  Ye  see  some  queer  like 
sichts  in  the  museum,  Mistress  Munro; 
ye  see  some  gey  queer  like—" 

1  'Tits!  Ye 're  no 'to  be  offendit.  I'm 
jist  tellin'  ye  whit  I  ken  aboot  ostriches, 
Mistress  M'Lerie.  I  'm  thinkin'  the  bird 
we're  speakin'  aboot  is  a  kin'  o'  furrin 
bird— a  kin'  o'  cockatoo,  maybe." 

"Aweel,  it's  a'  yin,"  said  Mrs. 
M'Lerie.  "But  I  aye  thocht  it  wis  a 
nostreech.  .  .  .  I  'm  no'  heedin'  ony- 
wey. ' ' 

"Whitever  it  is,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Munro,  pleasantly,  "it  '11  be  a  fine  orna- 
ment to  ma  paurlor;  an'  I'm  shair  it'll 
be  vera  highly  admired  an'  tooken  no- 
tice o'." 

Her  visitor  could  not  but  feel  grati- 
fied. "Weel,  I  'm  shair  I  'm  gled  ye  're 


76  MRS.  M'LERIE 

pleased,  Mistress  Munro;  I  'm  gled 
ye  're  pleased,"  she  said. 

"I  'm  jist  vexed  ye  canna  come  to  yer 
supper,"  Mrs.  Munro  replied.  "It  wis 
a  daft-like  thing  o'  me  to  ha'e  a  pairty 
on  the  Wensday  nicht  when  I  micht  ha'e 
mindit  that  you  and  yer  man  gaed  to  the 
prayer-meetin '. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  cudna  be  helpit,"  sighed 
her  friend. 

"  Ye  see,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  rather 
apologetically,  "ma  dochter  Jeannie— 
her  that  's  mairrit  on  Rubbert  M'Cul- 
loch— wis  in  the  hoose  on  Setterday,  and 
she  says  to  me,  says  she,  'Whit  day  's 
Wensday?  '  An'  I  says  to  her,  says  I, 
'Wensday  's  jist  Wensday.'  An'  she 
lauchs  a  wee,  an'  I  speirs  at  her  whit 
she  's  lauchin'  at.  An'  she  turns  to 
Eubbert  an'  she  says  to  him,  says  she, 
'Rubbert,  wud  ye  like  me  to  furget  ma 
waddin'  day!  '  An'  Rubbert  gi'es  her 


MRS.  MUNRO'S  PARTY  77 

a  wink,  an '  tells  her  to  baud  her  tongue. 
But  she  gi'es  anither  bit  lauch,  an'  says 
to  me,  'Are  ye  no'  fur  ha 'em'  a  pairty 
on  Wensday,  mither?  '  says  she.  'A 
pairty?  '  says  I.  'Whit  fur  a  pairty!  ' 
'Weel,  on  Wensday,  you  an'  fayther  '11 
ha'e  been  mairrit  five-an'-twinty  year,' 
says  she.  At  that,  ma  man,  wha  's  nod- 
din'  at  the  fireside,  luks  up  an'  cries,  'A 
hunner  an'  twinty-five  year,  ye  mean.' 
He  maun  aye  ha'e  his  bit  joke,  ye  ken, 
Mistress  M'Lerie.  Ha !  ha !  'Deed,  ay ! 
.  .  .  An'  then  ma  dochter  Jeannie  says 
to  me,  says  she,  *  Ye  maun  ha  'e  a  pairty, 
mither,  fur  it  '11  be  yer  siller  waddin' ! ' ; 

"Oh,  I  see  the  meanin'  o'  the  pairty 
noo,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie.  "But  I  doot 
yer  dochter  's  gaun  in  wi'  the  gentry, 
Mistress  Munro,  I  doot  she  's  gaun  in  wi ' 
the  gentry!  ' 

"I'm  feart  ye  're  richt,  Mistress 
M'Lerie.  But  whit  can  a  buddy  dae? 


78  MRS.  M'LERIE 

The  young  yins  flees  up  afore  ye  ken 
whaur  ye  are!  An'  afore  I  kent  whaur 
I  wis,  I  said  I  wud  ha'e  a  pairty,  an'  ma 
man  said  I  maun  keep  ma  word.  Ma 
certy !  Ye  never  ken  whit  a  man  '11  say 
or  dae !  ' 

"Ye  're  richt  there,  Mistress  Munro, 
ye  're  richt  there !  But  I  'm  rale  gled 
ye  're  gaun  to  ha'e  a  pairty.  .  .  .  But 
we  best  be  stairtin'  to  pit  things 
stracht. ' ' 

' '  'Deed,  ay, ' '  assented  Mrs.  Munro, 
and  for  nearly  an  hour  the  twain  labored 
between  the  parlor  and  the  kitchen. 

"Ye  '11  be  ha 'em'  a  pie  the  nicht,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  M'  Lerie  when,  at  last,  they 
sat  down  for  a  brief  rest  and  a  dish  of 
tea. 

"  Jist  that.  Sandy  Broon,  the  baker, 
is  coverin'  it  an'  firin'  it,  an'  he  's  no 
chairgin'  onythin',  seem'  he  's  comin'  to 
the  pairty  hisseP.  An 'we  're  ha'ein'  ham 


MRS.  MUNRO'S  PARTY  79 

sangwiches  furbye— ma  dochter  said  it 
wisna  the  thing  to  ha'e  an'  evenin' 
pairty,  as  she  ca'ed  it,  wi'oot  sang- 
wiches—an'  she  said  she  wud  mak'  them 
hersel'.  If  ye  jist  keek  intil  the  press 
ahint  ye,  Mistress  M'Lerie,  ye  '11  see 
rnaist  o'  the  things  that  '11  be  on  the 
table  the  nicht." 

' '  My !  '  was  about  all  the  visitor 
could  say  when  she  inspected  the  store 
of  good  things.  "My!  ' 

' '  Ye  see,  I  tell 't  ma  man  there  wis  nae 

• 

use  ha'ein'  a  pairty  an'  no'  feedin'  the 
folk.  An'  he  said,  lauchin '-like,  says  he, 
'Ye  're  richt  there,  auld  wife;  an'  I 
think  I  cud  enjye  a  dacent  meal  masel' 
efter  five-an '-twinty  years.'  He  maun 
ha'e  his  bit  joke,  ye  ken.  Ha!  ha!  ... 
But  I  'm  that  vexed  ye  canna  come  to  yer 
supper  the  nicht,  Mistress  M'  Lerie.  I  'm 
shair  yer  man  micht  let  ye  aff  the 
meetin'  fur  yince.  Onywey,  he  micht 


80  MRS.   M'LERIE 

come  wi'  ye  efter  the  meetin  's  ower.  I 
ken  he  's  rale  stric',  but— 

"Aw,  whisht,  whisht,  Mistress 
Munro!  ' 

"But  shairly  ye  micht  gi'e  him  a  bit 
hint  that  ye  're  wantin'  to— 

"Na,  na;  na,  na!  "  said  her  friend, 
sadly.  "He  wudna  like  it.  ...  Whit 
maun  be  maun  be.  ...  I'm  thinkin'  we 
best  be  gettin'  on  wi'  tidyin'  the  paur- 
lor,"  she  said,  with  a  badly  feigned 
cheerfulness. 

A  minute  later  she  was  polishing  the 
glass  case  of  her  beloved  birds,  and  say- 
ing to  herself,  "Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin." 


VI 

MRS.   M'LERIE  is  DEPRESSED 

WITH  an  expression  of  profound 
anxiety,  Mrs.  Munro  regarded 
her  old  friend,  who  sat  opposite  her  in 
a  languid  and  listless  attitude,  gazing 
hopelessly  at  the  fire  without  noticing 
that  it  required  replenishing.  Mrs. 
Munro  had  brought  back  the  case  of 
stuffed  birds  which  Mrs.  M'Lerie  had 
lent  her  a  few  days  previous,  but  Mrs. 
M'Lerie  had  received  the  best  beloved 
of  her  household  treasures  without  the 
slightest  sign  of  animation,  remarking 
gloomily:  "Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin,"  and 
sighing  heavily. 
"But  I  Ve  tooken  rale  guid  care 

c  81 


82  MRS.  M'LERIE 

o'  yer  birds,  Mistress  M'Lerie,"  Mrs. 
Munro  had  said,  truthfully  enough. 

"Ay,  I  'm  shair  o'  that,"  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie  had  returned.  "But  the  birds  is 
jist  vanity,  an'  I  doot  I  Ve  been  ower 
prood  o'  them."  And  here  she  had 
groaned. 

Then  Mrs.  Munro,  fairly  puzzled,  and 
not  a  little  depressed,  had  laid  the  case 
on  the  parlor  table  and  seated  herself 
in  the  chair  she  had  come  to  regard  as 
her  own;  and  Mrs.  M'Lerie  had  col- 
lapsed into  the  arm-chair  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fireplace  and  had  groaned 
again. 

"Whit  's  like  the  maitter,  Mistress 
M'  Lerie  ?  ' '  the  visitor  had  at  last  made 
bold  to  inquire. 

"Oh,  I  'm  no'  weel,  Mistress  Munro, 
I  'm  no '  weel, ' '  the  hostess  had  replied. 

Mrs.  Munro  had  been  so  surprised  at 
the  doleful  statement,  that  words  had 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      83 

failed  her,  and  all  she  could  do  was  to 
gaze  anxiously,  and  also  sympatheti- 
cally, at  the  other  for  nearly  ten  minutes. 

But  at  last  she  said  gently,  "'Deed, 
I  'm  sair  vexed  to  hear  ye  sayin'  ye  're 
no'  weel,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  I  'm  shair 
I  never  heard  ye  say  sic  a  thing  afore. 
Is  't  yer  heid  that  's  hurtin'  ye?  ' 

"Na;  it  's  no'  jist  exac'ly  ma 
heid.  .  .  .  But  I  'm  no'  weel,  Mistress 
Munro,  I  'm  no'  weel." 

"Hoots,  toots!  Ye  're  lukin'  fine!" 
said  Mrs.  Munro,  with  an  effort  at 
cheeriness. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  shook  her  head,  and 
kept  silence. 

"Is  there  onythin'  I  can  get  ye?  "  in- 
quired her  friend,  greatly  disturbed. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  shook  her  head  again. 
After  a  little  pause  she  said,  slowly 
and  tremulously,  "It  wis  a  peety  ye 
brocht  back  the  birds,  Mistress  Munro ; 


84  MRS.   M'LERIE 

I  'm  thinkin'  it  wis  a  peety  ye  had 
a'  the  trouble  o'  bringin'  back  the 
birds. ' ' 

"I  cudna  dae  less.  I'm  shair  it  wis 
rale  kind  o'  ye  to  len'  me  the  birds.  I 
can  tell  ye,  Mistress  M'Lerie,  the  birds 
wis  greatly  admired  an'  tooken  no- 
tice o'." 

"Wis  they?  "  inquired  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
interested  for  a  moment.  But  she  re- 
lapsed immediately.  ' '  But  it  wis  a  peety 
ye  had  a'  the  trouble  o'  bringin'  back 
the  birds.  Fur  I— I  wis  gaun  to  leave 
the  birds  to  ye  onywey,  Mistress  Munro ; 
ay,  I  'm  sayin'  I  'm  gaun  to  leave  ma 
birds  to  yersel,'  an'  naebody  else,  ma 
auld  freen'."  And  poor  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
almost  wept. 

"Leave  yer  birds  to  me?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Munro,  quite  mystified. 

"Ay,  jist  that.  Ye— ye  '11  get  the 
birds  when  I  'm  deid,  Mistress  Munro ; 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      85 

ay,  ye  '11  get  the  birds,  and  the  gless 
case  furbye,  when—' 

Then  Mrs.  Munro  rose  in  alarm. 
"Ye  're  no'  to  say  sic'  awfu'  things!" 
she  cried. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  did  not  appear  to  hear. 
"I  'm  shair  ye  '11  tak'  guid  care  o'  ma 
birds  when  I  'm  awa',"  she  said  softly. 
"Aye  keep  the  gless  on.  ...  I  'm  feart 
fur  cats  gettin '  at  the  birds.  ...  I  mind 
Mistress  M'Conky  had  birds— they 
wisna  near  as  fine  as  mine— an'  yinst 
when  she  wis  washing  the  gless  the  cat 
gaed  into  the  paurlor  an'  pu'ed  the  heids 
an'  wings  an'  tails  aff  a'  the  birds.  Ay, 
an'-" 

But  Mrs.  Munro  was  now  quite  terri- 
fied. "Whit  's  ado  wi'  ye,  whit  's  ado 
wi'  ye!"  she  exclaimed. 

"I  'm  no'  weel,  Mistress  Munro,  I  'm 
no'  weel,"  was  the  reply,  given  sadly 
and  humbly. 


86  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"But— but — whaur  are  ye  no'  weel!" 
gasped  her  visitor  in  desperation. 

"It  's  ma  back,  Mistress  Munro,  it  's 
ma  back. ' ' 

"Yer  back!  Mercy  me!  Whit's 
wrang  wi '  yer  back  1 ' ' 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  made  no  response. 

"Ha'e  ye  had  the  doctor  the  day?" 
asked  Mrs.  Munro. 

"Na." 

' '  When  had  ye  the  doctor  I ' ' 

"Never." 

' '  Never !  Oh,  wumman,  whit  wey  dae 
ye  no'  get  the  doctor  when  ye  're  no' 
weel?  Wull  I  rin  doon  to  the  druggist 
an'  tell  him  ye  want  him  to  send  up 
Doctor  M'Haffie?  Ay,  I  '11  jist  dae 
that." 

'  <  Na,  na !    Ye  're  no '  to  dae  that. ' ' 

"Ay,  but  I  wull!  If  ye  're  no'  weel, 
ye  maun  get  the  doctor."  And  Mrs. 
Munro  made  to  leave  the  room. 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      87 

1 '  Stope !  Ye  're  no '  to  gang !  ' '  cried 
her  friend.  * '  The  doctor  canna  dae  me 
ony  guid." 

"We  '11  shin  see  aboot  that!  " 

"Weel,  weel,  bide  a  wee,  Mistress 
Munro.  Sit  ye  doon,  an'  I  '11  tell  ye 
a'  aboot  it.  ...  I  'm  sayin'  the  doc- 
tor canna  dae  me  ony  guid.  Or'nar' 
meddicines  is  nae  guid  fur  me.  .  .  . 
Sit  ye  doon,  Mistress  Munro,  sit  ye 
doon." 

Rather  unwillingly,  Mrs.  Munro  re- 
sumed her  seat.  She  was  certainly  much 
paler  than  her  hostess. 

' '  Is  yer  back  hurtin '  ye  the  noo  ?  ' '  she 
inquired  nervously. 

"No*  jist  the  noo,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie.  "No'  jist  the  noo,"  she  repeated, 
almost  as  if  she  were  ashamed  of  having 
to  make  the  admission.  "It  's  aye  bad 
at  nicht  jist  aboot  the  time  when  he 
comes  hame  to  his  tea." 


88  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"But  whit  dis  yer  man  say  aboot  it, 
Mistress  M'Lerie?" 

1  i  Oh !  Ye  mauna  let  bug  to  ma  man ! 
I  wudna  tell  him  fur  onythin ' !  ' 

"Ah,  but  that  '11  no'  dae,  that  '11  no' 
dae!  I  'm  shair  yer  man  wud  be  sair 
pit  aboot;  but,  a'  the  same,  he  sud  ken 
if  ye  're  no'  weel.  But  I  'm  thinkin' 
ye  're  maybe  no'  as  bed  as  ye  think  ye 
are,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  kindly,  meaning 
to  administer  comfort  and  encourage- 
ment. 

"I  'm  tellin'  ye  I  'm  near  dune  fur," 
said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  a  trifle  sharply. 

"Och,  ye  're  no'  to  say  that.  Ye  're 
jist  a  wee  thing  doon  i'  the  mooth,  an' 
if  ye  wis  gettin'  the  doctor,  he  wud 
shin—" 

"The  doctor  canna  dae  me  ony  guid. " 

"Hoo  dae  ye  ken  that?  " 

"The  paper  says  it." 

' '  The  paper  ?    Whit  paper  I  ' ' 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      89 

"The  paper  aboot  the  peells.  .  .  . 
Here  the  paper."  And  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
after  some  fumbling,  produced  from  the 
large  pocket  of  her  petticoat  a  frequently 
folded  sheet  of  shabby  green  paper  with 
much  printing  upon  it. 

Mrs.  Munro  stretched  out  her  hand  for 
it,  but  her  friend  retained  it,  regarding 
the  letterpress  with  dismal  interest. 
"I  Ve  tooken  seeven  boaxes,  an'  I  'm 
nae  better,"  she  observed,  with  a  sigh. 
"An'  the  paper  says  sax  boaxes  is  suf- 
feecient  fur  to  effect  a  cure  in  the  maist 
convex  cases." 

"Eh?  .  .  .  Oh,  ay;  ye  mean  com- 
plex cases.  Complex  is  anither  word 
fur  'confused.' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  .  .  .  But  the 
paper  says  when  yinst  the  disease  gets  a 
grup  o'  ye,  nae  doctor  can  dae  ye  ony 
guid;  but  if  ye  tak'  the  peells  in  time— 
yin  efter  every  meal— ye  get  better.  But 


90  MRS.  M'LERIE 

ye  Ve  got  to  tak '  the  peells  in  time,  Mis- 
tress Munro,  ye  Ve  got  to  tak'  them  in 
time.  .  .  .  An'  I  didna  tak'  them  in 
time.  An '  the  paper  says  mony  a  life  is 
lost  wi'  no'  takin'  the  peells  in  time. 
.  .  .  That 's  me!" 

"Ach!  "  cried  Mrs.  Munro,  trying  to 
laugh,  but  feeling  more  like  tears, 
4 'ye  're  no'  to  believe  a'  ye  see  in  prent. 
Na!" 

"Ay;  but  luk  at  a'  the  testimonies  o' 
the  meenisters, ' '  said  Mrs.  Munro,  hand- 
ing the  green  paper  to  her  visitor,  and 
indicating  a  long  column  of  testimonials 
signed  by  reverend  gentlemen. 

Mrs.  Munro  read  over  the  pamphlet, 
which  set  forth  that  there  was  no  cure 
for  a  pain  in  the  back  but  Doctor  Dol- 
lop's Glistening  Globules;  and  that  a 
pain  in  the  back,  if  neglected  for  any 
length  of  time,  was  almost  sure  to  de- 
velop, more  or  less  quickly,  into  death. 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      91 

The  pamphlet  was  a  lurid  affair, 
and  Mrs.  M'Lerie  had  been  deeply 
and  cruelly  affected  by  it  since  she 
had  found  it,  some  three  months  ago, 
among  the  pages  of  her  favorite  and 
venerated  paper,  "The  Sunday  Sen- 
tinel." 

* '  Ye  never  tell 't  me  aboot  this, ' '  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  when  she  had  read  through 
most  of  the  pamphlet,  not  without  be- 
ing impressed  by  its  many  terrible 
warnings. 

"Aweel,  I  didna  want  to  disturb  ye; 
an'  I  thocht  I  wud  be  better  efter  I  had 
tooken  sax  boaxes  o'  the  peells.  But 
I  'm  no'  ony  better,  an'— an'- 

"But  maybe  the  paper  's  a'  wrang." 

"I  've  tried  to  think  that,  Mistress 
Munro,  I  've  tried  to  think  that.  But  I 
canna  gang  ag'in'  a'  the  meenisters'  tes- 
timonies. An'  if  the  peells  cured  the 
meenisters,  whit  wey  did  they  no'  cure 


92  MRS.  M'LERIE 

me?  ...  It  's  jist  because  I  wis  ower 
late— ower  late— takin'  them." 

Mrs.  Munro  drew  a  long  breath.  Then 
she  said,  with  considerable  violence, 
"De'il  tak'  yer  'Sunday  Sentinel,'  an' 
yer  Doctor  Dollops,  an'  yer  peely-wally 
meenisters,  an'- 

"Aw,  whisht,  whisht,"  said  Mrs. 
M'  Lerie. 

"I'll  no'  whisht!"  retorted  Mrs. 
Munro.  "Hoo  lang  has  yer  back  been 
hurtin'  ye?  "  she  suddenly  demanded. 

"Ten  year,  onywey,"  replied  Mrs. 
M' Lerie,  sighing.  "Ten  year,"  she  re- 
peated, "an'  the  paper  disna  tell  o'  ony- 
body  bein'  cured  efter  seeven  year.  .  .  . 
Sirs,  the  day !  It 's  a  wunner  I  'm  leevin ' 
yet.  It  maun  be  whit  they  ca'  a  spay- 
cial  dispensary  o '  Providence  that— 

"Ye  mean  dispensation,  Mistress 
M' Lerie?  " 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.    But—" 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      93 

"Ye  wis  tellin'  me  yer  back  disna 
hurt  ye  the  noo,"  Mrs.  Munro  inter- 
rupted. "Dis  it  hurt  ye  ever  i'  the 
mornin '  ?  " 

*  *  Na ;  I  canna  say  it  dis. ' ' 

"P  the  efternune?  " 

'  *  Whiles.    But  it  's  warst  at  nicht. ' ' 

"Mphm,"  muttered  Mrs.  Munro, 
looking  thoughtful.  "I  suppose,"  she 
went  on  presently,  "it  '11  hurt  ye  gey 
sair  efter  ye  're  scrubbit  the  kitchen 
flure?" 

"Ay,  it  hurts  me  warst  then." 

' '  An '  ye  scrub  the  kitchen  flure  every 
Wensday  mornin '  efter  yer  guid  man  's 
aff  to  his  work?  Eh?" 

"Ay." 

"An'  yesterday  wis  Wensday,  wis  't 
no',  Mistress  M'Lerie?  ' 

* €  Ay.  Fine  I  ken  it  wis !  I  thocht  ma 
back  wis  broke. ' ' 

"Jist  that.     An'  the  ither  mornin 's 


94  MRS.   M'LERIE 

ye  're  at  yer  son  John's  hoose,  helpin' 
his  guidwife  an'  dandlin'  his  wee  lassie, 
an'-" 

' l  Aw,  ye  never  seen  a  bonnier  wean !  ' 
cried  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  smiling  proudly. 

"An'  then  ye  come  hame  an'  get 
things  ready  fur  yer  man,"  continued 
Mrs.  Munro. 

"Ay,  jist  that.  But  ye  never  seen  a 
bonnier  wean,  Mistress  Munro,  ye  never 
seen  a  bonnier  wean !  An '  she  's  got  twa 
teeth  noo,  an'  ye  never  hear  her  girn, 
an'-" 

"Bootless,"  said  her  friend,  shortly. 
"But  whit  I  wis  gaun  to  say  wis  this— ' 
She  paused. 

"Whit?  "  asked  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 

*  *  I  wis  gaun  to  ask  ye  fur  a  wheen  o ' 
yer  peells,  fur  ma  back  's  been  sair  near 
every  nicht  since  I  wis  mairrit.  D'ye 
hear,  Mistress  M'Lerie  I  Ma  back  's 
been  sair  near  every—" 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      95 

"An'  ye  never  let  bug,"  said  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  with  a  quick  look  of  sympa- 
thy. "Aw,  Mistress  Munro,  I  'm  that 
vexed!  ' 

"Aweel,  ye  can  gi'e  's  yer  peells," 
cried  the  other. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  gazed  wonderingly  at 
her  friend  for  several  seconds.  Then 
she  took  a  pill-box  from  the  mantel- 
piece. 

"Ye  're  welcome  to  the  peells,"  she 
said.  "Maybe,"  she  added  doubtfully, 
'  *  they  '11  dae  you  guid. ' ' 

"Thenk  ye,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  taking 
the  pill-box  and  putting  it  into  the  red- 
dest part  of  the  fire. 

' '  Oh,  dearie  me !  "  cried  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 

Her  visitor  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 
"Sair  back!  "  she  exclaimed.  "Ye  're 
no*  the  only  wife  in  Glesca  wi'  a  sair 
back  when  the  nicht  comes!  An'  ye 
think  yer  deein ' !  " 


96  MBS.   M'LERIE 

"But— but-but— " 

"Aw,  Mistress  M'Lerie,  ma  auld 
freen',  yer  back  's  maybe  sair,  but  yer 
e'e  's  as  bricht  as  when  ye  wis  a  lassie. 
Micht  I  speir  if  ye  wis  concairned  aboot 
yer  back  afore  ye  read  this  paper?" 
And  Mrs.  Munro  put  the  paper  where 
she  had  put  the  pill-box. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  did  not  reply  at  once, 
but  when  she  did  it  was  in  rather  an 
apologetic  fashion.  And  after  saying, 
"I  ha'e  ma  doots,"  to  several  of  her 
friend's  cheering  observations,  she  ad- 
mitted that,  after  all,  she  might  have 
been  suffering  from  nothing  worse  than 
a  slight  attack  of  "nervous  agility," 
and  confessed  that  she  did  not  feel 
a  bit  older  than  she  had  done  a  year 
ago. 

' '  Weel,  weel, ' '  she  said,  *  *  maybe  ye  're 
richt,  an'  maybe  I  'm  wrang.  .  .  .  But 


MRS.  M'LERIE  IS  DEPRESSED      97 

ye  see,  I  didna  want  to  vex  ma  man,  an' 
I  didna  want  to  vex  ma  son  John,  an' 
I  didna  want  to  vex  yerseP,  Mistress 
Munro,  an'— an'—  Are  ye  fur  a  dish  o ' 
tea,  Mistress  Munro?  " 


vn 

AN   AFFRONT 

awa'  ben,  Mistress  Munro, 
come  awa'  ben,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie,  hospitably,  guiding  her  friend  into 
the  little  parlor. 

"Are  ye  no'  ower  busy?  "  inquired 
Mrs.  Munro. 

"Na,  na;  I  'm  no'  that  thrang  the 
day.  An'  hoo  's  a'  wi'  ye?  Ye  '11  ha'e 
come  roon'  to  hear  aboot  the  surree, 
like?  " 

"Jist  that,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  But 
I  'm  no '  gaun  to  bide  a  meenit  if  ye  're 
the  least  thing  thrang." 

"Aw,  sit  ye  doon,  sit  ye  doon.  The 
kettle  's  jist  on  the  bile,  an'  we  '11  ha'e 
a  dish  o'  tea,  an'  I  '11  tell  ye  a'  aboot 

98 


AN  AFFRONT 


the  surree,  an '  welcome.  It  wis  an  unco 
peety  ye  cudna  gang,  but  it  wis  a  mercy 
ye  hadna  peyed  fur  yer  tuckets,  you 
an '  yer  man.  I  mind  when  auld  Mistress 
Wallace's  man  got  twa  tuckets  fur  a 
surree  an'  peyed  fur  them  jist  three  days 
afore  he  dee  'd.  An ',  if  ye  '11  believe  me, 
Mistress  Munro,  Mistress  Wallace  has 
thae  tuckets  yet,  an'  they  're  near  twal' 
year  auld. ' ' 

"Cud  she  no'  get  the  money  back?" 
asked  Mrs.  Munro,  who  had  seated  her- 
self at  the  window. 

1  'No'  a  farden!  The  commytee  gaed 
bankrupt.  I  heard  it  wis  wi '  gi  'ein '  the 
folk  a'  a  cookie  ower  an'  abin  the  usual 
— onywey,  it  tuk  them  a'  their  time  to 
pey  the  baker  an'  the  singers,  let  alane 
Mistress  Wallace." 

"But  I  wudna  think  the  commytee 
that  wis  lukin'  efter  last  nicht's  sur- 
ree wud  gae  bankrupt  an'  refuse  fur 


100  MRS.  M'LERIE 

to  pey  fur  tuckets  that  hadna  been 
used." 

"Maybe  no',  Mistress  Munro,  maybe 
no'.  But  I  aye  think  it  'a  jist  a  temptin' 
o '  Providence  to  buy  tuckets  fur  a  surree 
afore  the  vera  day.  Of  coorse,  ye  ken 
the  yin  I  had  fur  last  nicht  wis— wis— 
whit  d'ye  ca'  it?" 

'  *  Complimentary. ' ' 

"Ay.  So  I  wisna  takin'  ony  risk,  as 
it  were.  But  I  maun  see  aboot  the  tea. 
Keep  yer  sate,  Mistress  Munro,  I  '11  no ' 
be  lang." 

Five  minutes  later  the  twain  were  to- 
gether again. 

"Weel,  aboot  the  surree,  Mistress 
M'Lerie,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  as  soon  as 
the  cups  were  filled. 

' '  Weel,  as  ye  ken,  ma  man,  bein '  fores- 
man  in  sic  a  big  work  as  Maister  Paur- 
ley's,  wis  on  the  platform,  an'  Mistress 
Gairdner  an'  masel'  gaed  early  an'  got 


AN  AFFRONT  101 

a  sate  whaur  we  had  a  graun  view  o '  the 
hale  proceedings.  There  wis  mony  a 
bigger  dickie  on  the  platform,  but  no' 
yin  cleaner  nor  ma  man's." 

1 '  I  believe  ye,  Mistress  M'  Lerie.  Wha 
wis  in  the  chair  ?  ' '  put  in  Mrs.  Munro. 

"I  dinna  mind  his  name,  but  I  wis 
rale  vexed  fur  him  when  he  got  up  to 
mak'  a  speech.  He  had  nae  mair  v'ice 
nor  a  moose,  but  to  see  him  ye  wud  ha'e 
thocht  he  wis  roarin'  at  the  folk.  An' 
he  wis  shakin'  an'  sweetin'  an'  pechin', 
puir  man,  an'  the  folk  wis  aye  gi'ein' 
him  a  bit  stamp  an'  cheer  to  gar  him 
haste,  an'  the  yins  on  the  platform 
whiles  clappit  an'  duntit  the  table  to 
encourage  him.  'Deed,  I  wis  vexed  fur 
him.  Ma  man  said  to  me  efter  that  he 
wis  a  rale  fine  gentleman,  but  nae  spokes- 
man. ' ' 

'  *  But  a '  that  wud  be  efter  ye  had  yer 
tea." 


102  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Ay.  I  wis  gaun  to  tell  ye  aboot  the 
tea.  My !  I  wis  that  aff rontit  wi '  Mis- 
tress Gairdner!  Aw,  ye  never  seen  sic 
a  thing,  Mistress  Munro !  ' 

1  l  Whit  wis  that  1  She  wisna  poochin ', 
shairly. ' ' 

' '  Na,  na.  But  she  wis  poorin '  oot  the 
tea  frae  yin  o'  thon  things,  an' — " 

"Ye  mean  the  urn." 

"Mphm.  She  wis  fillin'  her  ain  cup 
when  she  begood  to  sneeze,  an'  pu'ed 
back  her  haun'  quick,  ye  ken.  But  her 
finger  wis  catched  in  the  wee  handle,  an ' 
she  pu  'ed  ower  the  hale  affair,  an '  broke 
twa  cups  an'  a  saucer,  an'  drookit  a' 
her  pastries,  an'  soakit  her  claes,  an' 
gey  near  droondit  a  wean  wha  wis  sittin' 
aside  her!  .  .  .  But  that  wisna  whit 
affrontit  me.  Afore  I  kent  whaur  I  wis, 
she  had  slippit  oot  the  door— we  wis 
sittin'  near  a  door,  ye  ken— an'  she  never 
cam'  back.  An'  near  a'  the  folk  thocht 
I  had  made  the  mess— ay,  even  the 


AN  AFFRONT  103 

waiter  said,  *  Ye  auld  footer ! '  ablow  his 
breith,  an'  a  laddie  in  the  gallery  cried 
doon,  'Haw,  Mistress,  is  yer  biler 
brustit?  '  " 

"  The  impiddence!  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Munro,  indignant  and  sympathetic. 

"But  that  wisna  a',"  went  on  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  "that  wisna  a',  Mistress 
Munro.  It  wis  a  gey  lang  while  afore  I 
cud  luk  up  at  the  platform  again,  an' 
when  I  did  tak'  a  bit  keek,  there  wis  ma 
man  sittin'  wi'  a  rid  face  an'  no'  peyin' 
ony  attention  to  his  tea  or  the  crack  that 
wis  gaun  on  roon'  aboot  him.  I  tried 
fur  to  catch  his  e'e,  but  he  wudna  luk 
ma  wey,  an'  I  shin  seen  that  he  wis 
affrontit  tae.  An '  I  wis  near  cryin '  oot 
to  him,  'It  wisna  me,  it  wisna  me!'  jist 
like  a  wean,  ye  ken." 

"'Deed,  I  can  unnerstaun'  hoo  ye 
wud  feel,  Mistress  M'Lerie,"  said  Mrs. 
Munro,  kindly. 

"Aw,  I  wis  that  ashamed,  Mistress 


104  MRS.  M'LERIE 

Munro,  I  wis  that  ashamed.  I  tried  to 
eat  ma  pastry,  but  it  wis  like  to  choke 
me;  an'  yinst  or  twicet  I  wis  near 
gettin'  up  an'  fleein'  awa'  hame.  But  I 
thocht  it  wis  best  to  keep  ma  sate,  an' 
efter  a  wee  the  folk  stoppit  frae  lukin' 
at  me,  an '  the  wean  that  Mistress  Gaird- 
ner  had  near  droondit  wi'  the  tea  says 
to  me,  the  daurlin'!  says  she,  'I  ken  it 
wisna  you,  Mistress.'  An'  that  gar'd 
me  feel  a  wee  thing  easier,  an'  I  gi'ed 
her  ma  pastry.  Then  we  a'  got  up  an' 
sang  the  psawrn,  ye  ken,  an'  efter  that 
cam'  the  speakin '  that  I  tell't  ye  aboot. ' ' 

"An'  efter  that  the  concert,  nae 
doot." 

"  Jist  that.  But  I  didna  enjye  the  con- 
cert, Mistress  Munro,  I  didna  enjye  the 
concert. ' ' 

"Did  ye  no'?  Had  they  no'  a  guid 
comic  1  I  aye  think  the  concert  depends 
on  the  comic,  Mistress  M'Lerie.  The 


AN  AFFRONT  105 

ither  singers  is  a'  vera  weel  fur  gi'ein' 
the  comic  a  bit  rest.  Had  they  no'  a 
guid  comic  last  nicht?  " 

"Ay,  I  'm  no'  sayin'  onythin'  ag'in' 
him;  an'  the  folk  wis  a'  lauchin'  whin- 
ever  he  cam' on  the  platform.  But— but 
hoo  cud  I  lauch  at  a  comic,  Mistress 
Munro,  hoo  cud  I  lauch  at  a  comic  wi' 
ma  man  sittin'  there  lukin'  meeserable? 
Tell  me  that,  Mistress  Munro ! ' ' 

"Weel,  weel,"  said  the  visitor,  sooth- 
ingly, "I  daursay  ye  're  richt.  But 
maybe  if  ye  had  gi'ed  a  lauch  noo  an' 
then,  yer  man  micht  ha'e  lauched  tae. 
D'ye  see?" 

"Ay,  I  see  whit  ye  mean.  But  I 
maun  tell  ye,  that  I  wis  whit  they 
ca'  laborin'  intil  a  collusion,  Mistress 
Munro. ' ' 

"Eh?  Oh,  ay.  Under  a  delusion,  ye 
mean. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.    I  wis  laborin' 


106  MBS.   M'LERIE 

that  wey,  onywey.  I  thocht  ma  man  wis 
affrontit,  but  I  fun'  oot  efter  it  wis  jist 
his  teeth  wis  hurtin '  him. ' ' 

* '  D  'ye  tell  me  that  f  Dearie  me !  He 
sud  get  them  ta'en  oot,  Mistress  M'Le- 
rie." 

"  'Deed,  they  're  jist  new  in,  puir  man. 
An'  that  wis  the  wey  he  cudna  tak'  his 
tea  nor  lauch  at  the  comic.  But  I  didna 
ken  that  till  the  surree  wis  ower. ' '  Mrs. 
M'  Lerie  paused  for  a  few  moments,  then 
added,  very  solemnly,  "But  I  '11  never 
be  freen's  again  wi'  Mistress  Gairdner— 
no'  if  she  wis  to  gang  on  her  bendit 
knees!  I 'm  jist  tellin' ye." 

"I  doot  she  '11  be  gey  ashamed  o'  her- 
sel '  the  day, ' '  observed  Mrs.  Munro,  and 
proceeded  to  change  the  subject— but 
soon  reverted  to  it,  for,  after  a  hasty 
glance  out  of  the  window,  she  drew  back 
hastily,  exclaiming,  "Weel,  I  never! 
If  it  's  no'  jist  hersel'  comin'  up  the 
street!  " 


AN  AFFRONT  107 

"Eh!    Whit  d'ye  say?  " 

"  I  'm  sayin '  I  seen  Mistress  Gairdner 
comin '  up  the  street.  Wull  she  be  comin ' 
here,  think  ye?  ' 

"She  '11  no'  get  in  this  hoose,  ony- 
wey!  '  cried  the  hostess,  excitedly. 
She  '11  be  in  the  close  noo,  but  she  can 
I  warrant  ye!  '  And  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
peeped  cautiously  from  the  window.  ' '  I 
canna  see  her.  I  doot  she  's  comin'. 
She  '11  be  in  the  close  noo,  but  she  can 
ring,  an '  ring,  an '  ring,  but  I  '11  no '  open 
the  door  to  her." 

"Maybe  she  's  comin'  to  say  she  's 
sorry. ' ' 

"Weel,  she  can  say  that  at  the  key- 
hole. If  she  comes  to  the  door,  me  an' 
you  '11  never  let  on  we  're  in  the  hoose. ' ' 

"There  she  is,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Munro,  as  a  timid  tinkle  was  heard. 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  pursed  her  lips. 

"I  doot  she  's  awfu'  ashamed,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  softly. 


108  MRS.   M'LERIE 

A  minute  passed,  and  they  heard  an- 
other little  ring.  They  looked  at  each 
other  awhile. 

1  *  She  '11  be  gaun  awa '  noo, ' '  said  Mrs. 
Munro,  at  last. 

4 'Let  her  gang!" 

The  bell  rang  a  third  time. 

"Aw,  Mistress  M'Lerie,"  said  her 
friend,  "ye  sud  let  her  in." 

"Na!  " 

"Aw,  but  wis  it  no'  her  that  knittit 
thon  rale  fine  wee  shawley  fur  yer  son 
John's  wee  lassie?" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  Js  face  changed  instantly. 

"  My !  If  I  hadna  f urgot !  ' '  And  she 
hurried  from  the  parlor. 

She  was  too  late.  Her  visitor  had 
gone.  She  returned  to  the  parlor  with 
tears  in  her  eyes;  then  suddenly  flung 
open  the  window  and  bawled : 

"Come  back,  Mistress  Gairdner,  come 
back!  " 


VIII 

THE    JUMBLE    SALE 

"IT  NEVER  gaed  to  a  jungle  sale 
J_  afore,"  remarked  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  as 
she  and  her  friend,  each  dressed  in  her 
best,  stepped  out  of  the  close  into  the 
street,  which  was  bright  with  the  after- 
noon sunshine. 

"Weel,  it  's  no'  the  first  time  I  Ve 
been  at  a  jumble  sale,"  returned  Mrs. 
Munro,  smiling.  ''No'  that  I  'm  whit 
ye  micht  ca'  a  frequenter  o'  jumble 
sales,"  she  added.  ''But  whiles  ye  get 
a  bargain,  an'- 

"Ye  're  shair  there  's  no'  gaun  to 
be  ony  rattles,  Mistress  Munro  ? ' '  Mrs. 
M'Lerie  interrupted  anxiously. 

"Na,  na.    I  tell't  ye  afore  there  wud 

109 


110  MRS.  M'LERIE 

be  nae  raffles,  so  ye  needna  be  feart,  Mis- 
tress M'  Lerie.  Yer  man  cudna  ha  'e  ony 
objections  at  ye  gaun  to  the  jumble  sale. 
It  's  a'  square  an'  fair,  an'  there's  nae- 
body  '11  ask  ye  to  buy  a  pig  in  a  poke. ' ' 

"I  'm  gled  o'  that,  Mistress  Munro, 
I  'm  gled  o'  that.  Faur  be  it  frae  me 
to  say  that  rattles  isna  workit  honest- 
like,  but  I  aye  ha  'e  ma  doots ;  ay,  I  ha  'e 
ma  doots.  As  ye  ken,  I  wis  yinst 
catched  wi'  a  tucket  fur  an  organ,  an' 
I  'm  no '  gaun  to  be  catched  again.  Na ! ' ' 
And  Mrs.  M' Lerie  pursed  her  lips  and 
nodded  her  head  solemnly  three  times. 

Mrs.  Munro  checked  the  laugh  that 
came  with  the  recollection  of  the  organ 
ticket,  and  proceeded  to  describe  what 
her  uninitiated  companion  was  likely  to 
see  in  the  church  hall,  towards  which 
they  were  wending  their  way. 

"Ye  see,"  she  said,  "a  jumble  sale  is 
a  vera  different  thing  to  a  bazaur.  Near 


THE  JUMBLE  SALE  111 

a'  the  things  at  the  bazaur  is  new;  but 
a'  the  things  at  a  jumble  sale  is  auld! 
'Deed,  ay !  Some  o '  them  's  gey  auld ! 
.  .  .  But  ithers  is  no'  that  auld.  Gen- 
try folk  is  no'  needin'  to  wear  holes  in 
their  claes,  an'  I  Ve  seen  rale  nice-like 
things  gaun  dirt-chape.  I  mind  the  last 
sale  I  wis  at— na,  I  'm  wrang;  it  wis  the 
yin  afore.  Weel,  there  wis  a  young  led- 
dy  's  hat— a  beautiful  hat!— an'  it  wis 
nae  stranger  to  me,  fur  the  young  leddy 
—she  's  Miss  Smith,  Doctor  Smith's 
dochter — sits  in  oor  kirk,  no'  faur  frae 
whaur  we  sit.  Aw,  it  wis  a  beautiful 
hat,  a'  trimmed  wi'  roses,  rid  yins  an' 
yella  yins  an'  bew— na!  there  wisna  ony 
bew  yins.  An'  whit  d'ye  think  it  wis 
priced  at  the  jumble  sale?  Whit  d'ye 
think,  Mistress  M'Lerie?" 

"I  'm  shair  I  cudna  guess,  Mistress 
Munro. ' ' 

Mrs.    Munro    drew    a    long    breath. 


112  MRS.  M'LERIE 

1 1  May  I  dee  this  vera  meenit, ' '  she  said, 
solemnly,  "if  the  beautiful  hat  wisna 
priced  tippence!  .  .  .  Tippence!" 

"Weel,  I  never!" 

"That  wis  the  price!  An'  I  wudna 
wunner  if  it  cost  Miss  Smith  near  ten 
shullin's  when  it  wis  new.  An'  there  it 
wis  priced  tippence!" 

"Did  ye  buy  it?"  inquired  Mrs. 
M*  Lerie. 

"Na.  It  wis  nae  use  to  me.  But  I  'm 
jist  tellin'  ye  the  hale  story  to  let  ye 
see  hoo  things  whiles  gangs  dirt-chape  at 
jumble  sales.  An'  mind  ye,  I  've  heard 
o'  folk  buyin'  auld  things  fur  hauf  nae- 
thin',  an'  sellin'  them  efter  fur  five 
pound— ay,  an'  ten  pound!  " 

"It  bates  a'!  Whit  kin'  o'  things, 
Mistress  Munro  ? ' ' 

"Picturs,  an'  clocks,  an'  cheeny,  an' 
ither  things  that  's  aulder  nor  they  're 
bonnie.  I  mind  hearin'  o'  a  wife  wha 


THE  JUMBLE  SALE  113 

bocht  a  pictur  fur  a  shullin'.  The  gless 
wis  broke,  an '  she  tuk  it  to  a  man  fur  to 
get  a  new  gless.  An'  whinever  the  man 
seen  the  pictur  he  speirt  if  she  wud  sell 
it.  An '  she  wis  jist  gaun  to  say, '  Hauf-a- 
croon, '  when  he  said, '  Five  pound. '  An ' 
she  got  the  'five  pound.'  Ay!  that  wis 
a  bargain  fur  ye,  Mistress  M'  Lerie ! ' ' 

"  An'— an'  wull  they  be  sellin'  picturs 
at  the  jungle  sale  the  day?"  Mrs.  M' Le- 
rie asked  breathlessly. 

"Ah,  but  ye  mauna  be  lukin'  fur  a 
five-pound  pictur  at  every  jumble  sale," 
said  her  friend,  smiling.  "Na,  nal  Ye 
see,  it  's  jist  a  chance  in  a  hunner  thoo- 
san '. ' ' 

"Mphm!"  muttered  Mrs.  M' Lerie, 
disappointed,  and  a  little  ashamed  of 
her  eagerness.  "I  'm  thinkin'  there  a 
guid  bit  o'  rattlin'  wi'  anither  name  at 
yer  jungle  sale. ' ' 

*  *  Hoots,  toots !   Ye  're  no '  to  say  that, 


114  MRS.  M'LERIE 

Mistress  M'  Lerie.  As  I  said  afore,  it  's 
a'  square  an'  fair." 

"I  ha'e  ma  doots,  Mistress  Munro,  I 
ha'e  ma  doots." 

"Aweel,  ye  '11  shin  be  there,  an'  ye  '11 
see  it  a '  fur  yersel '.  .  .  .  Ye  dinna  need 
to  buy  onythin'  unless  ye  like." 

"Are  ye  gaun  to  buy  onythin'  yer- 
sel'!" asked  Mrs.  M*  Lerie,  regaining 
her  good  humor. 

"Weel,  I  wis  thinkin'  o'  buyin'  a  fen- 
der if  I  cud  get  yin  aboot  f owerpence. ' ' 

"A  fender  fur  f  owerpence!" 

"Jist  that!  I  've  seen  fenders  gaun 
fur  less.  Of  coorse,  they  're  gey  sair 
bashed  an'  roostit.  But  it  's  wunnerfu' 
whit  ye  can  dae  wi '  elbow-greese. ' ' 

"Fine  I  ken  that,  Mistress  Munro, 
fine  I  ken  that !  But  a  fender  fur  f  ower- 
pence !  I  never  heard  the  like ! ' ' 

"Aw,  that  's  naethin'  to  whit  ye  '11 
see  afore  ye  're  dune.  Mind,  if  ye  're 


THE  JUMBLE  SALE  115 

wantin'  to  buy  onythin',  dinna  gi'e  the 
leddies  a'  they  ask.  If  they  ask  a  shul- 
lin'  say  ye  '11  gi'e  saxpence,  an'  ye  '11 
likely  get  the  thing  fur  ninepence." 

"But  I  thocht  the  money  wis  fur 
the  kirk,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  looking 
thoughtful. 

"Ay,  it  's  fur  the  kirk.  But  a  bar- 
gain 's  a  bargain.  .  .  But  here  we  are, ' ' 
said  Mrs.  Munro. 

"Is  this  the  place?  You  gang  furrit, 
Mistress  Munro.  .  .  .  My !  whit  a  crood 
o'folk!" 

' '  Ye  sud  see  it  at  nicht, ' '  returned  her 
friend.  "Some  sales  has  an  auction  at 
nicht,  and,  I  can  tell  ye,  it  's  a  sicht! 
But  I  dinna  like  the  auction  business  ma- 
sel'.  I  aye  buy  things  I  dinna  want.  I 
yinst  got  landit  wi '  a  spy-gless  that  nae- 
body  cud  see  through.  I  'm  shair  I 
dinna  ken  to  this  day  whit  I  bocht  it 
fur,  an'  ma  man  lauchs  at  me  yet.  .  .  . 


116  MRS.   M'LERIE 

But  we  best  tak'  a  luk  roon'  afore  the 
crood  gets  bigger.  Come  awa',  Mistress 
M*  Lerie.  Dinna  be  f eart. ' ' 

It  was  an  hour  and  a  half  later.  The 
two  friends,  who  had  lost  each  other  for 
a  portion  of  the  period,  met  beside  a 
group  of  chairs,  all  of  which  were  more 
or  less  worn  and  damaged. 

"Is  this  whaur  ye  Ve  been  a'  this 
time?"  Mrs.  Munro  inquired  solici- 
tously, "  I  'm  shair  ye  're  wearit. ' ' 

1  i  I  'm  that  warm !  I  aye  get  that  warm 
when  I  'm  in  a  crood.  So  I  jist  said  to 
masel'  I  wud  wait  here,  an'  ha'e  a  sate. 
But  they  wudna  let  me  sit  doon  unless 
I  bocht  the  chair." 

"Wha  wudna  let  ye  sit  doon?"  de- 
manded Mrs.  Munro,  almost  fiercely, 
glowering  at  some  ladies  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

"Aw,  I  cudna  tell  ye  that  noo.  .  .  . 


THE  JUMBLE  SALE  117 

Never  heed.  I  'm  no '  as  warm  as  I  wis, 
an'  I  'm  rale  gled  to  see  ye  again." 

"Wis  ye  feart?" 

"Och,  I  'm  no'  that  easy  feart.  Did 
ye  buy  a  fender?" 

Mrs.  Munro  shook  her  head.  "The 
fenders  I  seen  wisna  worth  takin'  awa'. 
I  never  seen  sic  like  fenders !  An '  they 
wadna  sell  yin  unner  saxpence.  Some 
folk  ha  'e  an '  awf u '  neck ! ' ' 

"Weel,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  "I'm 
vexed  ye  didna  get  a  fender.  Wis  there 
naethin'  else  ye  wis  wantin'?" 

1 1  Na.  Everythin '  's  ower  dear  the  day. 
I  '11  maybe  come  back  the  morn  when 
the  sellin'  folk  ha'e  gotten  some  o'  the 
consate  ta  'en  oot  o '  them.  I  think  we  '11 
jist  gangnoo." 

"I— I  was  thinkin',"  began  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  and  paused. 

"Eh?" 

"It  wis— it  wis  a  wee  chair  I  seen  in 


118  MRS.   M<LERIE 

the  corner  thonder— a  wee  chair,  ye 
ken—  '  and  she  paused  again. 

"Are  ye  wantin '  to  buy  a  chair f ' '  said 
Mrs.  Munro.  "Ye  're  no'  needin'  a 
chair,  are  ye ? ' ' 

1  *  It  wis  a  wee  chair,  Mistress  Munro ! ' ' 

"Oh,  I  see!  Fur  yer  son  John's  wee 
lassie  ? ' ' 

' '  Jist  that.  Aw,  ye  never  seen  a  bon- 
nier wean !  Ye  never— ' ' 

"An'  whaur  's  the  chair?" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  sighed.  "It  wis  ower 
dear.  They  wantit  fower-an'-sax,  an'  I 
hadna  that  on  me." 

"Did  ye  no'  bate  them  doon?" 

"Aweel,  ye  see  I  Ve  jist  hauf-a-croon 
in  ma  purse." 

"I  '11  len'  ye  the  money,  an'  wel- 
come," said  Mrs.  Munro,  kindly. 
"Maybe  I  '11  be  able  to  bate  them  doon 
a  saxpence,  onywey." 

'  <  Ye  're  awf u '  kind ! ' '  said  Mrs.  M'  Le- 
rie,  gratefully. 


THE  JUMBLE  SALE  119 

"Havers!  I  'm  rale  gled  I  didna 
spend  ma  money.  Whaur  's  the  chair?" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  conducted  her  friend  to 
where  she  had  left  the  wee  chair. 

"It  's  awa' !"  she  exclaimed,  suddenly 
depressed. 

' '  Shairly  no ' ! "  cried  her  companion, 
hopefully. 

But  on  inquiry  they  found  that  the 
wee  chair  had  been  sold  five  minutes 
previously. 

"It  wis  the  nicest  wee  chair  ye  ever 
seen.  Jist  the  thing  for  ma  son  John's 
wee  lassie  when  she  's  a  bit  bigger.  Sirs, 
the  day!" 

' '  Never  heed,  Mistress  M'  Lerie,  never 
heed." 

But  Mrs.  M' Lerie  was  inconsolable. 
"I  had  set  ma  he'rt  on  it.  It  wis  that 
like  the  yin  John  had— it  wis  stolen  at 
the  flittin',  an'  I  wis  sair  vexed.  An* 
I  thocht  I  wis  gaun  to  get  yin  to  tak'  its 
place,  an'  noo— " 


120  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Come  awa'  hame  wi'  me,  an'  ha'e 
a  dish  o'  tea,"  interposed  Mrs.  Munro, 
and  led  away  her  old  friend,  who  con- 
tinued to  mourn  over  her  disappoint- 
ment. 

Even  the  dish  of  tea  did  not  cheer  as 
it  was  wont  to  do,  and  Mrs.  Munro  began 
to  get  desperate  in  her  efforts  at  com- 
fort. But  at  last  she  succeeded. 

"Efter  a',  Mistress  M'Lerie,"  she 
said  softly,  "ye  micht  no'  ha'e  been  as 
pleased  wi'  the  chair  if  ye  had  gotten 
it.  I  dinna  think  ye  wud  ha'e  liket 
gi'ein'  it  to  yer  son  John's  wee  lassie." 

"Whit  wey  that?" 

"Weel,  ye  see,  ye  wud  aye  be  re- 
mindit  that  ye  had  bocht  it  at  a  jumble 
sale ;  an'  a  jumble  sale  's  a'  vera  weel  fur 
buyin'  fenders  an'  things  fur  yerseP, 
but  it  's  different  fur  buyin'  a  present." 

"But-" 

"Of  coorse,  it  's  fur  yersel'  to  decide, 


THE  JUMBLE   SALE  121 

but  if  I  wis  buyin'  a  wee  chair,  I 
wudna— 

"Ye  wudna  buy  it  at  a  jungle  sale?" 

Mrs.  Munro  shook  her  head  impres- 
sively, and  said  firmly,  "No,  if  I  got  it 
fur  naethin'!" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  thought  for  nearly  two 
minutes.  "Weel,  maybe  ye  're  richt," 
she  admitted. 

"An'  I  wis  gaun  to  say  that  ye  cud 
easy  get  a  wee  chair  made.  I  ken  a  man 
that  wudna  chairge  mair  nor  the  cost, 
him  an'  me  bein'  auld  freen's.  An*  ye 
cud  get  the  wee  lassie's  name  carvit  on 
it,  an'-" 

"Aw,  Mistress  Munro!"  cried  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  in  a  burst  of  delight. 


IX 
MBS.  M' LERIE 's  COAST  VISIT 

'  ye  gaed  doon  the  waiter  yer 
lane,  Mistress  M* Lerie ? ' '  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  looking  at  her  friend  in 
surprise. 

"Ay,"  returned  Mrs.  M' Lerie,  laying 
down  her  cup.  "But  if  I  wis  leevin'  to 
be  a  centurion  I  wud  never  gang  ma 
lane  again. ' ' 

"Ye  mean  a  centenary— yin  that 
leeves  to  be  a  hunner  year  auld. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  An',  as  I  wis 
sayin',  I—" 

"But  I  thocht  ye  wis  gaun  wi'  yer 
man." 

"  So  I  wis ;  but  he  cam '  hame  on  Set- 
122 


MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT    123 

terday  nicht— he  wis  workin'  late,  ye 
ken— an'  tell't  me  he  wud  ha'e  to  gang 
to  his  work  jist  the  same  as  usual  on 
the  Monday,  fur  Maister  Paurley  's  get- 
tin'  new  ingynes  or  something  an'  he 
wantit  to  ha'e  a  crack  wi'  ma  man,  him 
bein'  foresman,  when  the  works  wis 
emp  'y  on  the  holiday. ' ' 

"Yer  man  's  gey  chief  wi'  Maister 
Paurley,"  remarked  Mrs.  Munro. 

"Ay,  he  's  a'  that.  But  that 's  no' 
whit  I  wis  gaun  fur  to  tell  ye.  When 
he  said  he  wud  ha'e  to  be  at  his  work 
jist  the  same  as  usual,  I  said  I  wisna 
heedin'  aboot  gaun  to  see  Maister  an' 
Mistress  Duncan  at  Kirn,  an'- 

"I  aye  thocht  the  Duncans  bidet  at 
Dunune. ' ' 

"  Weel,  their  hoose  is  aboot  hauf  roads 
atween  the  twa  places,  an'  they  Ve  got 
'Kirn'  prentit  on  their  writin '-paper. 
I  dinna  see  whit  odds  it  mak  's,  but  Mis- 


124  MRS.  M'LERIE 

tress  Duncan  aye  checks  folk  fur  sayin' 
she  bides  in  Dunune." 

"I  'm  thinkin'  her  an'  her  man  ha'e 
fleed  up  a  bit  since  I  seen  them  last. 
Prentit  writin  '-paper !  Ma  certy ! ' ' 

"Aw,  ye  see,  Mistress  Munro,  it  wis 
a  guid  hantle  o '  money  Maister  Duncan 
cam'  in  fur,  furbye  the  hoose  at  Dun- 
une—I  mean  Kirn.  An'  ye  canna  keep 
folk  f rae  gettin '  a  wee  stylish-like  when 
they  get  money  wi'oot  ony  strivin'." 

"Maybe.  But— but  prentit  writin '- 
paper!  It  bates  a'!  Whit  color  wis  it 
prentit  I" 

"Bew,— oh,  a  rale  bonnie  color! 
Mistress  Duncan  tell't  me  hersel'  she 
thocht  it  wis  rale  tastey.  An'  she  's  got 
a  bew  phonograph  prentit  on  her  en- 
velopes. ' ' 

"Whit?    A  bew  whit?" 

"Weel,  I— I  think  she  ca'ed  it 
phonograph,  but  maybe  I  'm  wrang. 


MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT    125 

Onywey,  it  wis  a  *  Jy'  an'  a  *D*  a'  mixed 
up  wi'  wee  curly- wrirlies. " 

"Aw,  ye  mean  a  monogram,  Mistress 
M'Lerie.  My!  sic  vanity!  I  'm  shair 
I  hope  it  's  no'  the  pride  afore  the  fa' !" 

"Och,  I  dinna  think  it  's  as  bad  's  a' 
that,  Mistress  Munro,  I  dinna  think  it  's 
as  bad  's  a'  that!"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
leniently.  ' '  I  canna  say  I  like  Mistress 
Duncan  jist  as  weel  's  I  liket  her  afore 
the  money  cam',  fur  I  never  feel  whit 
ye  wud  ca'  at  hame  in  her  hoose  noo. 
But  maybe  that  's  mair  ma  fau't  nor 
hers,  fur  ma  man  an'  hers  is  rale 
pack. ' ' 

"Aweel,  faur  be  it  frae  me  to  judge 
ma  fella  human  bein's,  but  I  maun  say 
I  canna  thole  seem'  plain  folk  tryin'  fur 
to  be  gentry.  It  gets  ma  dander  up, 
Mistress  M'Lerie.  But  I  '11  say  nae 
mair  aboot  it— no'  anither  word  wull  I 
say,  supposin'  it  wis  ma  last— excep' 


126  MRS.   M'LERIE 

that  I  wudna  be  surprised  to  see  Mistress 
Duncan  get  a  fa'  yet." 

"Aw,  but  ye  needna  be  that  sair  on 
the  wumman,  Mistress  Munro,  ye  needna 
be  that  sair.  Naebody  kens  whit  siller 
can  dae  till  they  get  it. ' ' 

"I  'm  shair  I  never  said  a  word  ag'in' 
Mistress  Duncan.  .  .  .  But  ye  wis  gaun 
to  tell  me  aboot  yer  jaunt,  Mistress 
M'Lerie,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  realizing 
suddenly  that  her  friend  might,  after  all, 
be  aware  of  the  fact  that  many  years  ago 
she  had  refused  to  marry  the  then  poor, 
but  now  plutocratic,  Jamie  Duncan. 

"Aboot  the  jaunt,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie,  agreeably.  "Ay,  I  '11  tell  ye  aboot 
the  jaunt,  an'  welcome.  As  I  tell't  ye, 
I  said  to  ma  man  I  didna  want  to  gang 
ma  lane,  but  he  said  he  thocht  I  sud 
gang  an '  no '  disappint  wur  auld  f  reen  's ; 
so  I  said  I  wud  gang,  but  I  wud  sail 
frae  the  Brimalaw,  fur  I  dinna  like  the 


MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT    127 

rinnin'  frae  the  train  to  the  boat,  an' 
I  'm  aye  feart  fur  gettin'  on  the  wrang 
boat  an'  gettin'  tooken  awa'  to  Cam 'el- 
town  or  Dublin,  or  some  o'  thae  faur- 
awa'  places.  But  he  said  I  maun  gang 
in  the  train,  fur  he  thocht  I  micht  get 
cauld  on  the  lang  sail. ' ' 

*  *  'Deed,  ye  Ve  a  kind  man,  Mistress 
M'  Lerie, ' '  her  friend  observed. 

"Ay,  he  's  kind,  fur  a'  that  folk  ca's 
him  stric'.  But  I  wantit  the  lang  sail, 
an '  ef ter  a  bit  argle-bargle  he  said  I  wis 
to  please  masel ',  but  I  maun  tak '  a  piece 
wi'  me.  So  I  gaed  off  early  i'  the 
mornin',  an'  catched  the  boat  at  the 
Brimalaw— but,  aw !  Mistress  Munro,  it 
wisna  like  gaun  doon  the  watter  when 
you  an'  me  wis  young.  Na!  it  wisna 
like  it  ava'.  D'ye  mind  the  boats— the 
Rotliesay  Castle,  an'  the  Ruby,  an'  the 
Kelpie,  an'  the  Spunkie,  an'  the  Lady 
Brisbane,  an'—" 


128  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Fine!"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  with  en- 
thusiasm. "But  times  ha'e  changed. 
Nooadays  the  captains  is  that  prood, 
they  're  aye  lukin '  ef  ter  the  boat  an '  no ' 
carin'  a  hate  fur  the  folk!" 

' '  'Deed,  ay !  They  're  aye  up  on  thon 
shelf,  an'  they  wudna  fash  theirsel's  to 
come  roon'  fur  the  siller.  It  's  no' 
freen'ly  like,  Mistress  Munro,  it  's  no' 
f  reen  'ly  like.  I  mind  when  the  captains 
cam'  roon'  wi'  a  tin  boax  fu'  o'  tuckets, 
as  much  as  to  say  they  wis  gled  to  see 
ye.  But  noo  ye  Ve  got  to  speir  fur  yer 
tucket  at  a  wee  keek-hole,  frae  a  young 
man  in  a  skippit  bunnet,  an'  rale  gen- 
teel." 

"An'  did  ye  get  doon  to  Dunune  a' 
richt1?"  inquired  Mrs.  Munro,  fearing 
lest  her  friend  should  get  lost  in  side 
issues. 

"Ay,  I  got  doon  a'  richt  to  Dunune. 
The  boat  I  gaed  wi'  didna  stope  at  Kirn, 


MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT    129 

an'  I  doot  Mistress  Duncan  wis  a  wee 
thing  pit  oot  at  ha 'em'  to  meet  me  at 
Dunune.  But  she  didna  say  a  word,  an ' 
we  set  oot  fur  *  Elizabethvile. '  : 

"Fur  whit?" 

"Fur  *  Elizabethvile.'  That  's  the 
name  o'  the  hoose.  Mistress  Duncan's 
name  's  Elizabeth,  ye  ken ;  but  I  didna 
like  to  ask  whit  wey  they  ca'ed  the  hoose 
'vile.'  " 

"  'Vile'  is  the  German  fur  'hoose,'  ; 
Mrs.  Munro  informed  her  friend.    * '  But, 
oh!  the  consate  to  ca'  the  hoose  efter 
her!  .  .  .  An'  whit  wis  the  hoose  like, 
Mistress  M'Lerie?" 

"It  's  a  braw  hoose.  I  never  wis  in 
sic  a  braw  hoose.  My!  ye  sud  ha'e  seen 
the  waux-cloth,  no'  to  mention  the  car- 
pets. Ay,  an'  on  the  door-step  they  've 
got  a  gutty  bass  wi'  their  name  on  't! 
An'  I  wisht  ye  seen  the  vazes  in  the 
paurlor,  an'  the  alabaster  ornaments  in 


130  MRS.  M'LERIE 

the  dinin'-room,  an'  the  harmonium,  an' 
the  servant  lassie,  an'  the  gairden,  an' 
the  miranda,  an'- 

1 '  Veranda,  ye  mean. ' ' 

"  An'  the  dinner— och,  I  smelt  it  when 
I  wis  sittin'  wi'  Mistress  Duncan  in  the 
paurlor ;  and  I  says  to  her,  says  I,  *  Ye  've 
shairly  gotten  sheep's  heid  the  day.  I 
wisht  ma  man  wis  here. '  But  she  didna 
seem  to  hear  me.  An '  then  we  had  wur 
dinner,  an'  I  wis  near  stupefied  wi'  the 
number  o '  different  things.  D '  ye  ken 
this,  Mistress  Munro?  Frae  the  stairt 
to  the  feenish  I  filled  nae  less  nor  sax 
plates!  Ay,  I  did  that!  An'  when  the 
servant  lassie  wis  gi'ein'  me  an  aipple, 
I  says  to  her,  says  I,  'Ye  '11  ha'e  an 
awf u '  washin '  ef ter  this ! '  An '  if  ye  '11 
believe  me,  Mistress  Munro,  she  drappit 
a'  the  aipples  on  the  flure,  an'  a  dish 
o'  bananas  furbye.  I  tell't  the  lassie 
I  wis  rale  vexed,  but  she  didna  say  ony- 


MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT    131 

thin',  and  Mistress  Duncan  got  awfu' 
rid,  but  didna  say  onythin',  either." 

' <  Did  ye  get  ony  wine  ? ' '  inquired  Mrs. 
Munro. 

"  'Deed,  ay!  I  had  a  wee  drappie 
port— vera  nice,  indeed;  vera  nice,  in- 
deed. Mistress  Duncan  tell't  me  efter, 
it  cost  her  man  two  shullin's  the  bottle, 
takin'  a  dizzen!  There  no'  mony  cud 
afford  that!" 

"An*  whit  did  ye  dae  efter  ye  had 
gotten  yer  denner  ? ' ' 

"We  gaed  into  the  paurlor  an'  had 
a  crack,  an'  then  we  gaed  ootbye  an' 
had  a  bit  daunner,  an'  then  we 
cam'  back  an'  had  a  dish  o'  tea— it 
wisna  vera  guid  tea— an'  then  it  wis 
time  fur  me  to  gang  fur  ma  boat.  Mis- 
tress Duncan  tell't  me  I  wud  get  a 
boat  at  the  Kirn  pier,  an'  so  we  gaed 
there.  But  we  had  an  awfu'  rin  fur't, 
an'  she  got  that  bad  pechin'  she  had  to 


132  MRS.   M'LERIE 

gi'e  up,  an'  I  tore  doon  the  pier  masel', 
an'  jist  wun  on  board  in  time.  There 
wis  that  few  folk  on  the  boat,  it  didna 
seem  like  a  boat  gaun  up  to  Glesca  on  a 
holiday  efternune.  An'  in  a  wee  I  seen 
we  wis  gaun  stracht  for  Dunune,  an'  I 
gaed  to  the  wee  keek-hole  whaur  they  sell 
the  tuckets,  an'  speirt  o'  the  young  man 
in  the  skippit  bunnet  when  we  wud  be 
at  the  Brimalaw.  'Brimalaw!'  says  he. 
'  We  've  never  been  there  yet.  An '  we  're 
gaun  to  Rothesay  the  noo ! ' 

' '  Weel,  weel ! "  ej  aculated  Mrs.  Munro. 

"Weel,  I  suppose  he  seen  I  wis  fair 
dumfoonert,  fur  he  cam'  oot  his  wee 
hoose,  an'  clappit  ma  shouther,  an'  said 
I  needna  get  excitet,  fur  a'  I  had  to  dae 
wis  to  get  aff  his  boat  at  Dunune,  an '  get 
on  to  anither  that  wud  come  in  aboot 
five  meenits.  Aw,  he  wis  a  rale  nice 
young  man,  an'  I  wis  that  thenkfu',  fur 
I  thocht  I  wis  dune  fur.  An'  when  we 
got  to  Dunune,  he  tell't  a  man  on  the 


MRS.  M'LERIE'S  COAST  VISIT    133 

pier  to  see  that  I  got  the  richt  boat.  An* 
so  at  last  I  mm  hame,  sair  wearit,  but 
that  thenkfu'  fur  ma  narra  escape.  If 
it  hadna  been  fur  the  young  man— pur- 
suer, I  think  they  ca  'ed  him  on  the  boat 
— guid  kens  whaur  I  wud  be  noo." 

* '  The  young  man  wud  be  the  purser. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  Onywey,  I  'm 
tellin'  ye  he  wis  rale  kind  to  an  auld 
wife." 

"Ay.  But  I  'm  thinkin'  ye  've  Mis- 
tress Duncan  to  thenk  fur  a '  yer  trouble, 
Mistress  M'Lerie." 

1 1  Toots !  I  dinna  think  that. ' ' 

"But  she  sudna  ha'e  let  ye  tak'  the 
wrang  boat." 

"Aw,  it  wisna  her  fau't,  Mistress 
Munro,  it  wisna  her  fau't." 

"Maybe  no',  maybe  no',"  returned 
her  friend,  solemnly.  "But  I  cudna 
trust  onybody  that  has  bew— 

A  ring  at  the  bell  prevented  the  re- 
mark being  finished. 


THE    CANABY 

"It  yTERCY  me!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
i?l  Munro,  entering  her  friend's 
parlor,  "ye  've  a  fire  on  the  day!" 

"Ay,"  returned  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  "I  pit 
yer  chair  ower  at  the  winda,  fur  I  wis 
f eart  ye  wud  fin '  it  ower  warm. ' ' 

The  visitor  took  the  chair,  and,  un- 
folding a  clean  handkerchief,  mopped 
her  forehead. 

"It  's  gey  warm  the  day,"  remarked 
the  hostess,  who  looked  as  if  she  had 
been  boiled  alive. 

"Is  yer  kitchen  biler  brustit  that 
ye  Ve  a  fire  in  the  paurlor,  Mistress 
M'Lerie!  "  Mrs.  Munro  inquired  with 
a  gasp. 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  shook  her  head. 

134 


THE   CANARY  135 

"Wild  ye  no'  open  the  winda?"  said 
the  other  in  astonishment. 

( l  Na,  na ! "  cried  Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  hastily. 
"We  mauna  open  the  winda,  Mistress 
Munro. ' ' 

' '  Ha  'e  ye  gotten  the  cauld  f ' '  came  the 
anxious  inquiry.  ' '  'Deed,  I  'm  sair 
vexed  if  ye  Ve  gotten  the— 

"Na;  it  's  no'  that,"  replied  Mrs. 
M' Lerie,  smiling  faintly;  "but,  ye  see, 
I  Ve  gotten  a— a  bird." 

"A  whit?" 

"A  bird— a  canary." 

"A  canary— whaur?" 

1 '  In  the  corner,  thonder. ' '  Mrs.  M'  Le- 
rie pointed  to  the  far  corner  of  the  par- 
lor, where,  on  the  floor,  in  its  wire  cage, 
a  canary  was  perched,  silent  and  dis- 
consolate-looking. 

"An'  whaur  got  ye  the  canary,  Mis- 
tress M'  Lerie  ? ' '  inquired  her  friend,  ris- 
ing to  go  over  and  inspect  the  bird. 


136  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Weel,  ye  see,  it  wis  this  wey,"  said 
Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  following  her.  *  *  Ma  auld 
freen'  Mistress  Forgie  cam'  to  me  aboot 
this  time  yesterday  wi'  the  cage  in  her 
harm'  an'  a  bew  tidy  wi'  yella  spotes 
happit  roon  the  cage,  an'  she  says  to 
me,  says  she,  'I  've  a  great  favour  to 
ask  ye,  Mistress  M' Lerie.'  .  .  .  'It  's 
grantit,'  says  I.  Fur,  ye  see,  she  's  an 
auld  freen'  o'  mines.  'Ay,  it  's  grantit 
afore  ye  ask  it, '  I  says  to  her,  fur  I  seen 
she  wis  kin'  o'  pit  aboot.  .  .  .  'Weel,' 
she  says  to  me,  says  she,  'wall  ye  tak' 
ma  wee  canary,  an '  be  kind  to  him  when 
I  'm  awa'?'  An'  she  begood  to  greet 
saft-like.  .  .  .  'Hoots,  toots!'  says  I, 
tryin'  no'  to  luk  frichtit,  'ye  're  no'  to 
be  speakin'  that  wey,  Mistress  Forgie. 
I  never  seen  ye  lukin'  better.  .  .  .  'Aw, 
I  didna  mean  that,'  she  says.  'I  thocht 
ye  kent  I  wis  leavin',  Mistress  M' Lerie.' 
.  .  .  '  'Deed,  ay !  I  can  see  ye  're  leevin ' 


THE  CANARY  137 

wi'  hauf  an  e'e,'  says  I,  'an'  I  hope  I  '11 
see  the  same  fur  mony  a  lang  year. '  .  .  . 
'But  I  'm  leavin'  Glesca  the  morn,  fur 
guid,'  she  says,  dichtin'  her  e'en.  .  .  . 
An'  then  I  mindit  that  her  man  had 
gotten  a  premotion  to  a  fine  job  in  Bel- 
fast. 'Weel,  weel,'  I  says  to  her,  says 
I,  'I  'm  shair  I  beg  yer  paurdon,  Mis- 
tress Forgie.  I  didna  ken  ye  wis  fur  aff 
as  quick  as  a'  that.'  .  .  .  'It  's  shinner 
nor  I  expectit  masel ',  to  tell  ye  the  hon- 
est truth,'  says  she;  'but  Samuel  's  got 
his  orders,  an '  we  maun  gang  the  morn 's 
mornin'.  An'  I  want  ye  to  tak'  the 
canary,  fur  Samuel  '11  no'  let  me  keep 
mair  nor  three  in  Belfast,  an'  be  kind  to 
the  wee  thing  fur  yer  auld  f reen  's  sake. ' 
An'  she  grat  gey  sair,  fur  I  'm  thinkin' 
she  wis  unco  sweirt  to  pairt  wi'  yin  o' 
her  birds.  .  .  .  Aweel,  I  didna  ken  whit 
to  say,  fur  I  never  had  ony  birds  in  ma 
hoose  but  thur"— Mrs.  M'Lerie  indi- 


138  MRS.  M'LERIE 

cated  the  case  of  stuffed  birds  at  the  win- 
dow— "and  I  kent  as  muckle  as  a  waux 
f eegure  aboot  keepin '  leevin '  birds.  But 
puir  Mistress  Forgie  said  she  cudna 
trust  it  till  onybody  else  in  the  warl ',  an ' 
she  said  it  wud  be  a  fine  pet  fur  ma  son 
John's  wee  lassie  when  she  growed  up 
a  bit — an' — an' — weel,  Mistress  Munro, 
I  tuk  the  bird  frae  her— and  there  it  is 
to  prove  ma  words." 

"Ay,  I  see  the  bird,"  said  Mrs. 
Munro,  while  her  friend  paused  for 
breath. 

"Weel,  I  tuk  the  bird,  as  ye  see,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  M'Lerie,  "but  I  tell't  Mis- 
tress Forgie  she  wud  ha'e  to  tell  me 
whit  to  dae  wi'  the  puir  wee  thing,  fur 
I  didna  want  it  to  dee  if  I  cud  help  it. 
Mistress  Forgie  stoppit  greetin',  an'r 
efter  a  dish  o'  tea,  tell't  me  a'  I  wis  to 
dae,  an'  said  she  wud  send  me  a  bookie 
aboot  canaries  as  shin  as  she  got  to  Bel- 


THE  CANARY  139 

fast.  No'  that  I  'm  heedin'  aboot  the 
bookie,  fur  I  doot  it  '11  jist  pit  ma  heid 
in  a  bizz,  an'  it  's  in  a  bad  enough  bizz 
the  noo,  guid  kens." 

"But  she  wud  gi'e  ye  suffeecient  in- 
structions fur  the  time  bein',  as  it  were," 
put  in  Mrs.  Munro. 

Mrs.  M*  Lerie  shook  her  head  despon- 
dently. ' '  I  thocht  that  last  nicht,  but  noo 
I  canna  mind  hauf  the  things  she  tell't 
me,  an'  the  ither  hauf  's  gotten  near  a1 
mixty-maxty.  When  I  wis  gettin '  ready 
ma  man's  breakfast  in  the  mornin',  I 
wis  sayin'  ower  a'  the  things  to  masel', 
an'  I  thocht  I  wis  gettin'  on  fine,  but  I 
drappit  a  fresh  egg  in  the  jaw-box, 
an'  it  slippit  awa'  doon  the  holes  afore 
ye  cud  say  'Jack  Robi'son!'— an'  it 
jist  seemed  as  if  ma  mem'ry  slippit 
alang  wi'  't,  fur  efter  that  I  wis  fair 
stupit.  An'  then,  when  I  gaed  to  luk 
efter  the  puir  wee  canary,  I  cud 


140  MRS.  M'LERIE 

hardly  mind  a  thing,  and  I  near  gaed 
dementit ! ' ' 

'  *  But  did  ye  no '  mind  onythin '  ava '  1 " 
Mrs.  Munro  inquired. 

"  I  'm  thenkf u '  to  say  I  did  mind  twa- 
three  things,  an'  I  hope  they  '11  keep  the 
puir  bit  birdie  leevin '  till  ma  man  comes 
hame,  an'  then  I  '11  send  him  oot  to  see 
if  he  canna  fin'  a  freen'  that  kens  aboot 
canaries.  I  'm  rale  gled  ye  cam'  in  the 
day,  Mistress  Munro,  fur  I  cudna  leave 
the  hoose.  Ma  man  tell't  me  he  thocht 
the  meenister  micht  come  the  day." 

' '  I  'm  shair  I  'm  gled  to  keep  ye  com- 
p'ny,  Mistress  M'Lerie,  but  I  'm  vexed 
I  canna  help  ye  wi'  the  bird.  Phoo !  but 
it  's  that  warm  in  here ! ' '  The  excla- 
mation was  involuntary. 

"I  wud  tak'  ye  ben  to  the  kitchen,  but 
I  'm  feart  to  leave  the  canary,  Mistress 
Munro,  I  'm  feart  to  leave  the  canary. ' ' 

"Aw,    never   heed.     I  'm   no'    com- 


THE  CANARY  141 

plainin'.  .  .  .  But  ha'e  ye  dune  ony- 
thin'  fur  the  bird  the  day?  " 

1  'Oh,  ay.  I  Ve  dune  a  wheen  things. 
I  'm  shair  I  hope  I  Ve  no'  dune  ony- 
thin '  wrang.  .  .  .  I  gi  'ed  it  fresh  watter 
an'  fresh  seed— Mistress  Forgie  gi'ed 
me  a  poke  o'  seed— an'  a  screw-nail, 
an'-" 

"A  whit!" 

"  A  screw-nail,  Mistress  Munro,  a 
screw-nail.  Mistress  Forgie  said  I  wis 
to  gi  'e  it  a  screw-nail  in  its  seed. ' ' 

1  'Whit's  that  fur?" 

"Ye  may  speir,  but  I  canna  answer. 
But  I  gi'ed  it  a  big  yin  oot  the  snib  o' 
the  kitchen  press,  fur  I  thocht  if  I  gi'ed 
it  a  wee  yin  it  micht  try  to  swallow  it 
an'  get  chokit." 

"Dis  it  eat  the  nail!"  inquired  Mrs. 
Munro,  gazing  at  the  canary  with  pro- 
found curiosity.  "I  yinst  seen  a  black 
man  eatin'  gless  in  a  penny  show, 


142  MRS.  M'LERIE 

but  I  never  heard  tell  o'  birds  eatin' 
nails. ' ' 

1 '  It  bates  me, ' '  said  Mrs.  M'  Lerie.  * '  I 
canna  unnerstaun'  it.  But  I  can  tell  ye 
the  nail  's  jist  the  same  as  it  wis  when 
I  pit  it  in  the  seed  at  nine  o'clock." 

"  Maybe  it  eats  the  nail  through  the 
nicht.  .  .  .  An'  whit  mair  did  ye  dae, 
Mistress  M' Lerie?" 

"I  mindit  yin  thing  as  weel  as  I  mind 
ma  name,  onywey, ' '  said  the  other,  with 
a  little  satisfaction  in  her  voice.  "I 
mindit  that  the  canary  wis  never  to  get 
cauld  nor  sit  in  a  draught."  And  she 
hastened  to  stir  and  replenish  the  fire. 

"But  is  't  no'  ower  dark  fur  a  bird 
in  the  corner?" 

"It 's  maybe  a  wee  thing  dark,  but 
it  's  safe,  Mistress  Munro,  it  's  safe,  I 
warrant  ye !  Ye  see,  the  chiffoneer  keeps 
back  the  draught  frae  the  door.  I  'm 
jist  daein'  whit  I  wis  tell't  to  dae." 


THE   CANARY  143 

"But  ye  aye  see  birds  sittin'  near 
windas. ' ' 

"Maybe  ye  're  richt.  But  I  '11  ha'e 
to  get  ma  winda  made  tichter  afore  ma 
canary  sits  there.  An'  whaur  wud  I  pit 
ma  ither  birds?"  asked  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
suddenly,  referring  to  the  case  of  stuffed 
ones.  "It  's  mony  a  year  since  they  sat 
there  the  first  time.  Na,  na;  I  cudna 
pit  awa'  ma  ither  birds." 

1 '  But  ye  cud  hing  the  canary  abin  yer 
ither  birds  wi '  a  string,  cud  ye  no ',  Mis- 
tress M'Lerie?" 

"An'  supposin'  the  string  wis  to 
break,  whaur  wud  ma  ither  birds  be  ? " 

Mrs.  Munro  could  not  refrain  from 
laughing,  though  the  drops  came  out 
on  her  forehead  with  the  effort.  "Oh, 
my!  Mistress  M'Lerie!  Oh,  my!  .  .  . 
An'  whit  aboot  the  puir  wee  canary?" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  looked  the  least  thing 
offended.  "Auld  freen's  comes  first," 


144  MRS.  M'LERIE 

she  muttered.  Then  her  expression 
changed.  * '  Weel,  weel,  Mistress  Munro, 
the  string  's  no'  a  bad  notion,  but  it  '11 
ha  'e  to  be  a  strong  bit.  But  I  '11  need  to 
get  ower  the  draught  first. ' ' 

"It  's  a  guid  thing  yer  ither  birds 
canna  be  hurtit  wi'  draughts,"  Mrs. 
Munro  observed,  smiling. 

"Aweel,  ye  see,  they  're  in  a  gless  case 
—Tits !  that  wis  a  daft-like  thing  to  say ! 
Of  coorse,  ma  ither  birds  is  different  to 
the  canary. ' '  And  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  laughed 
at  herself.  .  .  .  "But,  ye  ken,  Mistress 
Munro,"  she  added,  with  sudden  solem- 
nity, "it  's  whiles  jist  as  if  ma  ither 
birds  wis  leevin'.  Ma  he'rt  's  that  set 
on  them." 

' '  'Deed,  ay, ' '  said  Mrs.  Munro,  sym- 
pathetically. "But  yer  canary  's  unco 
quate, ' '  she  went  on.  ' '  Has  it  no '  been 
singin'  the  day?" 

"Never  a  cheep, "  her  friend  returned, 


THE  CANARY  145 

looking  troubled  again.  "An'  I  hivna 
been  oot  the  room  abin  twa  meenits  at  a 
time  the  hale  day.  I  had  to  gang  to  the 
door  twa-three  times,  an'  to  the  kitchen 
fur  a  bit  piece  fur  masel'  and  coals  fur 
the  fire— but  that  wis  a'." 

'  *  I  think  I  've  heard  that  birds  winna 
sing  when  they  dinna  get  licht.  An'  it  'a 
gey  dark  in  the  corner  thonder."  Mrs. 
Munro  had  returned  to  her  seat  at  the 
window. 

"Weel,  I  'm  shair  I  dinna  ken  whit  to 
dae.  If  I  gi'e  it  licht,  I  'm  feart  it  gets 
cauld;  an'  if  I  keep  it  warm,  it  '11  no' 
sing.  There  's  naethin'  as  bad  as  bein' 
in  a  state  o'  incision,  as  I  yinst  heard  a 
meenister  sayin'.  Ay,  an'- 

"Ye  mean  indecision,  Mistress  M'Le- 
rie!" 

"Aweel,  it  's  a*  yin.  .  .  .  That 's  the 
state  I  'm  in.  ...  But  I  '11  say  this, 
Mistress  Munro,  I  '11  say  this— it 's 

10 


146  MRS.   M'LERIE 

faur  better  fur  ma  wee  canary  to  be 
dumb  nor  deid. ' ' 

''That 's  true.  But  I  doot  it  's  a  bad 
sign  it  no'  singin'.  ...  Ye  micht  try 
cheepin '  at  its  cage. ' ' 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  knelt  down  and 
''cheeped"  till  she  had  no  breath 
left,  but  the  canary,  after  hopping  to 
the  remotest  spar,  regarded  her  with 
a  beady  eye,  and  made  not  the  slightest 
response. 

"I  doot  yer  bird's  no'  weel,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro,  gently. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  rose  to  her  feet,  pant- 
ing. Her  face  was  miserable.  "Whit 
am  I  to  dae?"  she  cried  at  last.  "I  'm 
no'  wantin'  it  to  dee." 

Mrs.  Munro  gazed  helplessly  out  of 
the  window. 

"Whit  am  I  to  dae?"  repeated  her 
hostess,  wildly.  "  I  'm  shair  I  wisht  I- 

Just  then  Mrs.  Munro  jumped  up. 


THE  CANARY  147 

"There  the  meenister  comin'.  I  maun 
gang,"  she  exclaimed. 

"Rest  ye,  rest  ye,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie,  hurrying  to  the  case  of  stuffed  birds 
and  wiping  a  speck  of  dust  from  the 
glass. 

"I  dinna  want  to  see  him  the  day," 
whispered  her  friend,  hurriedly.  "Ma 
man  's  no'  been  at  the  kirk  fur  fower 
Sawbaths.  I  maun  gang.  I  '11  try  an' 
jink  him  in  the  close.  I  '11  see  ye  the 
morn. ' '  And  Mrs.  Munro  fled  from  the 
house. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  had  no  time  to  argue, 
as  the  fireside  required  sweeping,  and 
the  tidy  had  slipped  from  the  back  of 
the  best  easy-chair— the  chair  wherein 
the  minister  would  sit.  So  she  busied 
herself,  casting  many  an  anxious  glance 
at  the  canary. 

But  the  minister  was  longer  in  com- 
ing than  she  expected.  .  .  . 


148  MRS.   M'LERIE 

When  she  did  open  the  door  to  him 
his  smile  was  even  brighter  than  usual. 

"And  how  are  you  to-day,  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie?  "  he  asked  pleasantly.  Then  he 
laughed.  "And  how  is  your  canary? 
I  'm  very  fond  of  canaries  myself,  and— 
and  I  happened  to  meet  Mrs.  Munro 
a  minute  ago. "... 

Sometimes  the  ministerial  visit  is 
welcome. 


XI 

A    DISTINGUISHED    VISITOR 


that  seen  ye  the  noo 
wud  think  it  was  the  Queen  her- 
sel'  that  wis  comin'  to  see  ye  the  day," 
remarked  Mrs.  Munro,  pausing  in  dust- 
ing a  pea-green  vase  on  her  old  friend's 
mantelpiece. 

"Weel,  I  'm  aboot  dune  noo,"  said 
Mrs.  M'Lerie,  as  she  rose  panting  from 
the  floor,  where  she  had  been  fiercely 
polishing  a  leg  of  the  parlor  table.  '  '  An  ' 
ye  wudna  ha  'e  me  bring  a  bonny  young 
leddy  like  Miss  Paurley  intil  a  dirty 
hoose,  wud  ye,  Mistress  Munro?" 

11  'Deed,  no!  Ye  ken  fine  I  wudna. 
But  ye  're  no'  expec'in'  Miss  Paurley 
to  admire  hersel  '  in  the  legs  o  '  the  table, 
are  ye  ?  " 

149 


150  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"Ah,  but  I  canna  thole  mahogany  that 
disna  shine,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  smil- 
ing good-humoredly.  "An'  I  'm  unco 
obleeged  to  ye  fur  helpin'  me,  Mistress 
Munro. ' ' 

"Toots,  wumman!  Ye  're  welcome. 
But  to  tell  ye  the  solemn  truth,  I  Ve 
dustit  fur  near  an'  'oor,  an'  I  've  never 
seen  a  speck  o'  dust.  Whit  wis  the  last 
time  ye  dustit  yer  paurlor,  Mistress 
M'Lerie?  It  wisna  a  week  syne,  I  war- 
rant ye." 

"Och,  weel,  I  gi'ed  it  a  kin'  o'  bit 
dust  this  mornin',  but  I  thocht  I  micht 
ha'e  missed  twa-three  things.  Ye  see, 
I  '11  maybe  never  see  Miss  Paurley  again 
— efter  she  's  mairrit." 

"Whit  wey  that?  She  's  shairly  no' 
leavin'  Glasca." 

"Ay,  is  she.  She  's  gaun  awa'  to 
furrin  pairts  wi'  her  man." 

"Dae  ye  tell  me  that?    An'  whaur  's 


A    DISTINGUISHED  VISITOR    151 

she  gaun,  dae  ye  ken,  Mistress  M'  Lerie  f 
I  daursay  ye  wud  hear  a'  aboot  it  frae 
yer  man,  him  bein'  Maister  Paurley's 
foresman." 

"  Jist  that.  I  whiles  hear  things  that 
naebody  else  hears.  Ma  man  's  in  a 
vera  important  an'  confeedential  po- 
seetion.  Ay,  I  whiles  hear— 

"An*  whaur  did  ye  say  Miss  Paurley 
wis  gaun?" 

"To— to  Hangshy.  I  think  that's 
whit  they  ca'ed  it." 

Mrs.  Munro  shook  her  head.  ' '  I  never 
heard  tell  o'  sic  a  place.  Whaur  is  it?  ' 

"I  dinna  ken,  I  'm  shair." 

"Is  't  aboot  Jamaicy?" 

"I  Ve  tell't  ye  a'  I  can,  Mistress 
Munro,  I  Ve  tell't  ye  a'  I  can.  But  I 
maun  ha'e  a  rub  at  the  legs  o'  the  easy- 
chair."  And  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  took  a  few 
steps,  fell  on  her  knees,  and  began  pol- 
ishing as  if  for  dear  life. 


152  MRS.  M'LERIE 

I  'As  the  folk  that  mak'  the  sape  says, 
cleenliness  is  next  to  godliness,"  ob- 
served Mrs.  Munro.    "See  an'  no'  rub 
the  leg  awa'  a'  thegither.    Ye  wud  be 
sair  affrontit  if  ye  ha'  to  offer  Miss 
Paurley  a  chair  wantin '  a  leg. ' ' 

II  Ye  're  the  yin  fur  yer  bit  joke,"  said 
the  hostess,  laughing.    "But  I  'm  dune 
noo.  .  .  .  Jist  wait  till  I  gi'e  a  dicht  to 
the  birds."    She  breathed  pantingly  on 
the  glass  case  containing  the   stuffed 
birds,  and  then  polished  vigorously.  "I 
think  that   '11  dae  noo,"  she  said  at 
last.    "I  '11  awa'  an'  get  tidied.    Ye  '11 
excuse  me  fur  five  meenits,   Mistress 
Munro." 

"Certainly,"  said  her  friend,  agree- 
ably. "I  '11  jist  ha 'e  a  keek  at  the  ' Sun- 
day Sentinel'  till  ye  're  ready.  There 
wis  an  awfu'  excitin'  story  in  the  last 
yin  ye  lent  me.  But  it  stoppit  awfu' 
abrupt-like,  wi'  the  bad  villian  stabbin' 


A  DISTINGUISHED  VISITOR    153 

wur  hero  an'  loupin'  ower  a  precipice, 
haudin'  the  lovely  young  hero-ine  in  a 
mad  embrace.  My!  it  wis  rale  sensa- 
tional!" 

"Ah,  but  wur  hero  wisna  stabbit  in 
a  vittal  pairt,  an'  the  young  hero-ine 
wisna  kilt,  fur  she  fell  on  the  tap  o '  the 
villian,  an'  he  wis  gey  sair  hurt  an' 
gaed  humphy-backit  fur  the  rest  o'  his 
days.  But  he  reformed  an '  leeved  happy 
ever  efter!  Ye  '11  get  it  a'  in  the  paper 
in  yer  haun,  Mistress  Munro. ' ' 

"Thenk  ye.  But  I  doot  ye  Ve  spilet 
the  story  wi'  tellin'  me  the  end  o'  't." 

"Aw,  I  'm  a  stupit  buddy,  Mistress 
Munro,  I  'm  a  stupit  buddy !  But  never 
heed!  There  a  fine  new  story  begins 
this  week  ca'ed  'Gory  Gold;  or,  Fur 
Baby's  Sake.'  " 

"Mphm !  I  '11  ha'e  a  read  at  that  till 
ye  snod  yersel'  up,"  said  Mrs.  Munro, 
settling  down  in  a  chair,  with  the  "Sun- 


154  MRS.  M'LERIE 

day  Sentinel, ' '  which  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  took 
in  regularly. 

•  ••••• 

When  the  hostess  returned,  she  found 
her  friend  just  concluding  the  first  in- 
stalment of  "Gory  Gold." 

"Tits!"  exclaimed  the  latter,  irrita- 
bly, "It  jist  feenishes  at  the  maist 
excitin '  bit !  But  whit  extraor  'inar '  in- 
tellec's  the  folk  maun  ha'e  that  writes 
thae  stories!  I  wis  fair  cairrit  awa'!" 

"An7  it  gars  ye  weary  fur  the  next 
week,"  said  Mrs.  M* Lerie,  sympathiz- 
ingly. 

"Mercy  me!"  cried  Mrs.  Munro, 
dropping  the  paper.  * '  Are  ye  no '  weel  ? 
Are  ye  f eelin '  cauld  I ' ' 

"Cauld!    I  'mfair  bilin'." 

' '  But  ye  Ve  gotten  on  a  warm  shawl. ' ' 

"It  's  the  shawl  I  got  in  a  present 
frae  Miss  Paurley,"  said  Mrs.  M*  Lerie, 
proudly. 


"Ay,  I  ken.  But  it  's  no'  the  weather 
fur  it  ava '. ' ' 

"Ye  wudna  ha'e  Miss  Paurley  comin' 
to  the  hoose— maybe  fur  the  last  time— 
an'  me  no'  wearin'  the  shawl  she  gi'ed 
me.  Wudye?" 

'  *  Weel,  weel,  I  daursay  ye  're  richt, ' ' 
Mrs.  Munro  soothingly  returned,  al- 
though she  felt  that  her  old  friend  was 
the  least  thing  ridiculous.  "It  's  a  rale 
fine  shawl,"  she  added  kindly. 

1  *  Ay,  is  it ! "  said  Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  a  trifle 
shortly. 

"  An'  it  becomes  ye  unco  weel." 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie 's  little  fit  of  annoyance 
passed,  and  she  was  about  to  compliment 
Mrs.  Munro  on  her  bonnet,  when  a  ring 
at  the  door-bell  prevented  her,  and  threw 
her  into  a  state  of  intense  excitement. 

"That  '11  be  her!"  she  said  in  a  loud 
whisper.  "I  '11  awa '  an '  open  the  door. 
Oh,  my !  See,  Mistress  Munro,  ye  micht 


156  MRS.   M'LERIE 

pit  awa'  the  'Sentinel.'  Stap  it  ablow 
the  sofa.  Thenk  ye.  Sirs,  the  day !  I  'm 
that  warm!  An',  oh,  Mistress  Munro, 
I  Ve  fairgot  to  tak'  the  sugar-cookies 
oot  the  poke!" 

"I  '11  dae  that  fur  ye.  Awa'  an'  open 
the  door,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  hurrying 
to  the  tea-table.  "Weel,  I  never!  If 
they  're  no'  jist  plain  cookies!" 

"Whit  's  that?"  gasped  the  hostess, 
halting  at  the  door. 

"They  're  no'  sugar-cookies.  The 
baker  's  gi'ed  ye  the  wrang  kind.  But 
never  heed !  Ye  canna  keep  Miss  Paur- 
ley  stannin'  ootside." 

"But  I  tell't  the  man  I  wantit  sugar- 
cookies,"  groaned  the  other,  distract- 
edly. ' '  Fur  I  kent  it  wud  maybe  be  the 
last  time  Miss  Paurley  wud  come  to— 

"Weel,  weel,  it  canna  be  helpit  noo. 
There  's  the  bell  again ! ' ' 

The  poor  hostess  sighed  miserably  as 


A  DISTINGUISHED  VISITOR    157 

she  proceeded  to  admit  her  guest,  but 
began  to  brighten  immediately  pretty 
Miss  Parley  set  foot  in  the  narrow  lobby, 
looking  as  if  she  were  really  pleased  to 
find  herself  there. 

"I  'm  that  glad  ye  Ve  came,"  said 
Mrs.  M'Lerie,  hospitably.  "Come  awa' 
ben  an'  rest  ye.  I  'm  rale  prood  to  see 
ye.  ...  Ye  ken  Mistress  Munro,"  she 
added  as  they  entered  the  parlor.  ' '  Her 
an'  me  's  auld  freen's." 

1  l  Of  course  I  know  Mrs.  Munro, ' '  said 
Miss  Parley,  pleasantly,  shaking  hands 
with  that  lady,  who,  having  dropped  a 
cookie  under  the  table  and  bumped  her 
head  in  a  vain  effort  to  recover  it,  was 
considerably  flustered.  "I  hope  you  are 
well,  Mrs.  Munro. ' ' 

"Thenk  ye  kindly,  Miss  Paurley,  I 
canna  complain.  Are  ye  haudin'  weel 
yersel"?"  returned  Mrs.  Munro,  almost 
certain  that  her  bonnet  was  off  the 


158  MRS.   M'LERIE 

straight.  ' '  If  ye  '11  excuse  me,  I  '11  awa ' 
an'  see  if  the  kettle  's  bilin',"  she  con- 
tinued, and  left  the  room  hastily.  It  had 
been  previously  arranged  that  she 
should  attend  to  the  tea-making,  so  that 
the  hostess  could  remain  with  the  hon- 
ored guest. 

"I  need  n't  ask  how  Mr.  M' Lerie  is," 
said  Miss  Parley,  taking  the  proffered 
easy-chair,  "for  I  'd  soon  hear  from 
father  if  there  was  anything  wrong  with 
him.  But  I  'm  afraid  you  've  caught 
cold,  Mrs.  M*  Lerie.  A  summer  cold  is 
a  nasty  thing,  isn't  it?" 

'  *  Na,  na,  I  Ve  no '  gotten  the  cauld, ' ' 
replied  Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  in  some  confusion. 
"But— but  I  aye  like  to  be  weel  happit. 
An '  hoo  's  yer  f ayther  ?  An '  yer  mither ! 
An'  yer  brithers  an'  sisters?" 

While  Miss  Parley  was  replying,  Mrs. 
M'  Lerie  happened  to  glance  at  the  tea- 
table,  and  a  moment  later  uttered  a 
horrified  exclamation. 


A  DISTINGUISHED  VISITOR    159 

"What  's  the  matter?"  asked  the  vis- 
itor, startled. 

"Aw,  naethin'— naethin'  ava'.  I— 
I  'm  rale  gled  to  hear  ye  're  a'  weel. 
They  '11  be  gey  vexed  to  think  o '  ye  get- 
tin  '  mairrit,  are  they  no '  I " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,"  said  Miss  Parley,  laughing. 
*  *  One  away  won 't  make  such  a  big  dif- 
ference. ' ' 

"I  kent  a  big  difference  when  ma  son 
John  got  mairrit,— a  big  difference. 
'Deed,  the  mornin'  efter  he  gaed  awa' 
I  bilet  an  egg  fur  him,  an'— an'  I  near 
grat  when  I  mindit  he  wisna  there  to 
eat  it.  But,  of  coorse,  I  had  jist  the  yin 
bairn." 

"Now  you  Ve  got  two,"  remarked 
the  girl,  cheerily.  ' '  Because  you  Ve  got 
a  little  granddaughter.  How  is  she? 
She  must  be  getting  a  big  girl." 

"Aw,  ye  never  seen  the  likes  o'  her, 
Miss  Paurley,  ye  never  seen  the  likes  o' 


160  MRS.   M'LERIE 

her!"  cried  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  with  a  gush 
of  delight.  "Ye  never  seen  a  bonnier 
wee  lassie.  An'  she  's  that  fat!  Myl 
it  's  jist  a  treat  to  get  haudin'  her !  An' 
she  kens  her  grannie.  Ay,  she  does 
that!"  Fairly  started  on  her  favorite 
subject,  Mrs.  M'Lerie  continued  her 
eulogy  till  Mrs.  Munro  entered  with  the 
tea-pot. 

Ten  minutes  later,  when  Miss  Parley 
had  asked  and  received  a  second  cup  of 
tea,  to  the  intense  gratification  of  her 
hostess,  Mrs.  Munro  remarked: 

"  Mistress  M'Lerie  wis  tellin'  me  ye 
wis  gaun  awa'  to  furrin  pairts,  Miss 
Paurley. ' ' 

"Yes.  We  're  going  to  Shanghai  for 
a  few  years,  anyhow. ' ' 

Mrs.  Munro  turned  to  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 
"That  wisna  whit  you  ca'ed  it,"  she 
said.  "Ye  said  it  wis  Hangshy." 

"Aweel,  it 's  a'  yin,"  said  Mrs.  M'Le- 


A  DISTINGUISHED  VISITOR     161 

rie,  who  was  again  worrying  over  the 
fact  that  she  had  been  swindled  by  the 
baker— and  in  more  ways  than  one. 
Not  only  were  the  cookies  wrong,  but 
there  was  one  short. 

"Whaur  aboots  is  Hang— I  mean 
Shanghai  ? ' '  inquired  Mrs.  Munro,  who, 
noting  the  direction  of  her  old  friend's 
gaze,  was  also  beginning  to  feel  uncom- 
fortable. 

"It  's  in  China, ' '  replied  Miss  Parley. 
*  *  Quite  a  lot  of  Scotch  and  English  peo- 
ple live  there." 

"I  thocht  there  wis  naethin'  but  can- 
nibals an'  savage  folk  there.  But  I  'm 
rale  gled  to  hear  it  's  no '  the  case, ' '  said 
Mrs.  Munro. 

* '  'Deed,  ay  I "  said  Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  en- 
deavoring to  shake  her  mind  free  of  the 
baker  and  his  dishonesty.  "Wull  ye 
no'  ha'e  a  cookie,  Miss  Paurley?"  she 
inquired,  presently  presenting  the  plate. 


11 


162  MRS.  M'LERIE 

Miss  Parley  took  the  cookie,  although 
she  did  not  want  it. 

"Pit  plenty  butter  on  't,"  her  hostess 
advised.  * '  Ye  see,  thur  cookies  wis— wis 
a— a  mistake.  I  ordered  sugar-cookies, 
but-but-" 

"Oh,  but  I  like  this  kind  far  better. 
And  they  're  so  nice  and  new,  and  the 
butter  is  so  sweet."  Miss  Parley's 
little  speech,  even  if  it  were  mere  polite- 
ness, deserves  a  better  record  than  this. 

And  Mrs.  Munro  was  not  behindhand 
with  her  word  of  comfort.  "I  'm  jist 
o'  the  same  opeenion,"  she  observed 
firmly.  "Sugar-cookies  is  jist  fur 
weans.  Try  yin  o'  thur  yersel',  Mis- 
tress M'Lerie,  an'  ye  '11  enjye  it." 

Miss  Parley  waited  for  half-an-hour, 
at  the  end  of  which  time  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
had  forgotten  all  her  worry. 

"Weel,  I  ken  ye  maun  be  unco  busy 
the  noo,"  said  the  latter.  "An'  it  wis 


A  DISTINGUISHED   VISITOR    163 

rale  kind  o'  ye  to  come  to  see  an  auld 
wife  like  me." 

"You  Ve  been  very  good  to  me," 
returned  the  girl.  "Good-bye,  Mrs. 
Munro. '  ' 

Mrs.  Munro  had  composed  a  little 
speech  for  the  occasion,  but  all  she  said 
was:  "Guid-bye,  guid-bye  to  ye.  I  'm 
gled  there  nae  cannibals." 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  accompanied  her  guest 
to  the  door,  and  there,  with  a  sudden 
gulp,  she  whispered :  "An'  wull  I— wull 
I  never  see  ye  again,  Miss  Paurley?" 

Miss  Parley  smiled  gently.  "If — if 
you  '11  come  to  the  wedding  you  '11  see 
me  then,  Mrs.  M'  Lerie, ' '  she  said  shyly. 

"The  weddin'!  .  .  .  Me!"  cried  the 
old  woman,  in  a  flutter. 

"Well,  I  hope  you  won't  refuse  the 
invitation  when  it  comes  to  you  next 
week."  And  then,  as  the  situation  was 
becoming  awkward,  Miss  Parley  made 


164  MRS.  M'LERIE 

a  brief  adieu  and  hurried  down  the 
stair. 

It  was  several  minutes  before  Mrs. 
M' Lerie  could  return  to  the  parlor. 
Again  and  again  she  wiped  her  eyes,  and 
again  and  again  they  filled. 

"The  daurlin'!"  she  repeated  to  her- 
self. "The  daurlin'!" 

When  at  last  she  rejoined  her  old 
friend,  the  latter,  very  red  in  the  face, 
said: 

* '  Here  's  the  cookie,  Mistress  M'  Lerie, 
I  wis  f eart  ye  micht  think  I  had  ett  it. '  * 

But  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  sank  into  a  chair  as 
if  she  had  neither  heard  nor  seen,  and 
murmured : 

"I  '11  tell  ye  a'  aboot  it  in  a  wee,  Mis- 
tress Munro,  I  '11  tell  ye  a'  aboot  it  in 
a  wee." 


XII 

JIMSIE 

IT  was  Friday  afternoon,  and  on  Fri- 
day afternoons  Mrs.  M*  Lerie  always 
cleaned  the  glass  case  containing  her 
stuffed  birds— that  is,  cleaned  it  inside 
as  well  as  out,  for,  of  course,  it  received 
an  outward  dusting  daily  along  with 
the  other  contents  of  the  parlor. 

With  the  utmost  care  she  lifted  off  the 
cover— preparatory  to  conveying  it  to 
the  kitchen,  where  it  would  be  washed 
and  polished  till  it  shone  as  brightly  as 
glass  could  shine— and,  laying  it  on  the 
table,  she  took  up  a  small,  soft  brush, 
such  as  barbers  use  in  removing  shorn 
locks  from  one's  poll  and  neck,  and 
dusted  the  gay  plumage  of  her  birds  in 

165 


166  MRS.  M'LERIE 

a  fashion  affectionate  and  proud.  See- 
ing that  the  case  was  practically  tight, 
this  part  of  her  weekly  task  was  more 
a  labor  of  love  than  one  of  necessity; 
for  it  afforded  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  the  highest 
gratification,  and  she  really  looked  as 
if  she  felt  she  was  giving  the  birds 
pleasure  also.  The  live  canary  which 
she  had  once  possessed  had  never  satis- 
fied her  as  the  inanimates  before  her, 
though  she  had  wept  when  it  died  from 
over-attention  and  blamed  herself  for 
neglecting  it. 

She  was  engaged  in  gently  brushing 
the  gaudiest  inmate  of  the  case,  smiling 
happily  as  she  did  so,  when  a  tapping 
at  the  outer  door  startled  her. 

"Wha  can  that  be?"  she  asked  her- 
self, laying  down  the  brush.  "Whit 
wey  dae  they  no '  ring  the  bell  I  There  's 
naebody  chaps  at  ma  door  but  Mistress 
Munro,  and  she  never  comes  on  Fri- 


JIMSIE  167 

days.  An',  furbye,  it  wisna  like  her 
clappin '. ' ' 

The  tapping  was  repeated. 

"Na,  it  's  no'  Mistress  Munro.  I 
wunner  wha  it  is.  But  I  suppose  I  best 
gang  an '  see, ' '  she  muttered  a  little  im- 
patiently, as  she  left  the  room  with  a 
regretful  glance  at  her  birds. 

Opening  the  door,  she  beheld  a  small 
boy,  who  might  have  been  seven  or  eight 
years  old,  neatly  if  economically  dressed, 
and  the  possessor  of  a  plump  counte- 
nance bearing  a  charmingly  innocent  ex- 
pression. Slight  brownish  stains  at  the 
corners  of  his  mouth  might  have  been 
excused,  so  cleanly  was  his  appearance 
otherwise. 

"Wis  it  you  that  wis  clappin',  lad- 
die!" asked  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  her  irritation 
vanishing. 

"Ay." 

"An'  whit  micht  ye  be  wantin'f" 


168  MRS.  M'LERIE 

'  *  I  'm  wantin '  ma  auntie. ' ' 

"But  I  'm  no'  yer  auntie,"  she  said, 
smiling  kindly. 

*  *  I  ken  yer  no '  ma  auntie. ' ' 

"An*  there  's  nae  auntie  o'  yours 
bides  here." 

' '  I  ken.  Ma  auntie  bides  up  the  stair, 
an'-" 

"Aw,  are  you  yin  o'  the  wee  Bl  alk- 
ies?" Mrs.  M'Lerie  inquired,  thinking 
of  a  neighbor  who  had  nephews  of  that 
name. 

' '  Naw,  I  'm  no ' !  I  wudna  like  to  be 
a  Blaikie !  Ma  auntie  bides  up  the  stair, 
an'  I  cam'  to  see  her,  an'— 

"Whit  's  yer  auntie's  name,  dearie?" 

"Auntie  Mary." 

"Ay,  but  whit  's  her  ither  name?" 

"I  dinna  ken.  I  gaed  up  til  her 
hoose,  an'  there  wis  naebody  there,  an' 
an  auld  wife  said  she  wis  awa',  an'  I 
wis  to  come  an'  speir  if  you  kent  ony- 
thin'  aboot  her,  an'—" 


JIMSIE  169 

"Oh,  it  's  Miss  Colquhoun  that  's  yer 
auntie.  Fine  I  ken  her— a  rale  dacent 
wumman.  But  did  ye  no'  ken  she  gaed 
awa'  on  Wensday  to  bide  fur  twa-three 
weeks  wi'  a  freen'  doon  the  watter — I 
canna  mind  the  name  o'  the  place.  It 
wis  jist  the  ither  day  she  wis  tellin'  me 
she  had  nae  ludgers,  an'  it  wis  chaper 
bidin'  wi'  freen 's  nor  in  yer  ain  hoose — 
a  sayin'  that  's  as  true  as  ony  o'  Soly- 
man's — no'  that  I  'm  heedin'  aboot 
leavin'  ma  hame.  Na !  But  a'  the  same, 
it  's  no'  fur  me  to  judge  ither  folk,  an' 
I'm-" 

' '  Is  ma  auntie  awa '  doon  the  watter  ? ' ' 
interrupted  the  youngster,  anxiety  in  his 
voice. 

"  'Deed,  ay!  That  's  jist  whit  I  'm 
tellin'  ye.  ...  But  whit  dae  they  ca* 
ye,  dearie?" 

' '  Jimsie. ' ' 

"  Jimsie  whit?" 

"Jimsie  Danks." 


170  MRS.  M'LERIE 

' '  An '  whaur  dae  ye  bide ! ' ' 

"  Twinty-seeven  McTurk  Street." 

"Whaur 's  that?" 

"It  's  on  the  Sooth-side."  The  reply 
was  given  in  a  quavering  manner. 

* '  Mercy  me !  That 's  a  lang  road ! 
Hoo  did  ye  get  ower  here!" 

"Ma  maw  pit  me  in  the  caur  an'  tell't 
the  gaird  to  pit  me  oot  at  the  fit  o'  the 
street,  an'  I  kent  the  road  efter  that. 
But  I— I  wisht  ma  auntie  wis  hame. 
Oh!  Oh!" 

"Dinna  greet,  dearie,"  cried  Mrs. 
M*  Lerie,  deeply  touched. 

"I  'm  no'  greetin'!" 

"Weel,  weel.  ...  An'  hoo  wis  ye 
gaun  to  get  hame  again!" 

"In  the  caur.  Ma  maw  gi'ed  me  a 
penny,  but  I— I  lost  it.  ...  I  thocht  I 
wud  get  anither  frae  ma— ma  auntie. 
She  aye  gi'es  me  a  penny  when  I  gang 
to  see  her." 


JIMSIE  171 

"An'  whaur  lost  ye  yer  penny?" 

"In  a— a— in  a— a  sweetie  shope," 
said  Jimsie,  truth  suddenly  getting  the 
upper  hand. 

"Aw,  ye  sudna  ha'e  spent  yer  caur 
penny  on  sweeties,"  said  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
gravely.  *  *  But  weans  is  jist  weans, ' '  she 
added  to  herself. 

"I— I  didna  mean  to  spend  it  on 
sweeties,"  he  muttered.  "But  I  cudna 
help  it." 

"Puir  mannie !  Ma  son  John  wis  jist 
the  same,  an'  he  's  nane  the  waur  o'  't 
noo.  .  .  .  Maybe  ye  're  hungry,"  she 
said  abruptly.  "Are  ye  hungry?" 

"Ay." 

"Weel,  jist  come  ben,  an'  I  '11  gi'e  ye 
a  piece,  Rubbert. ' ' 

"I  'm  no '  Rubbert !  I  'm  Jimsie, ' '  he 
said  indignantly.  But,  nevertheless,  he 
entered  the  house  willingly. 

"  'Deed,  I  'm  vexed  fur  ca'in'  ye  Rub- 


172  MRS.   M'LERIE 

bert  when  yer  name  'a  Jimsie, ' '  she  said 
apologetically,  ''but  I  'm  that  bad  at 
mindin'  names.  I  'm  aye  confusin'  the 
prophets  o'  the  Auld  Testament.  .  .  . 
Come  ben  the  hoose,  Jimsie.  .  .  .  See 
there  the  parlor,  Jimsie.  Sit  down  on 
thon  chair,  Jimsie." 

Jimsie,  remembering  his  manners, 
said, ' '  Thenk  ye,  mistress, ' '  and  took  the 
chair  indicated. 

"Wud  ye  tak'  a  ham  sangwidge  or 
a  jeely  piece?"  inquired  his  hostess, 
kindly.  "I  Ve  a  wee  tate  ham  in  the 
hoose,  an'  jeely  's  jist  new-made." 

"Ay.  I  cud  tak'  a  sangwidge  an'  a 
jeely  piece,  mistress." 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  laughed,  and  went  to  the 
kitchen  to  prepare  the  feast.  On  her  re- 
turn she  discovered  her  guest  beside  the 
stuffed  birds,  staring  at  them  with  all 
a  boy's  curiosity. 

"Dinna  tich  the  birds,  dearie,"  she 


JIMSIE  173 

cried  uneasily.  "I  wudna  like  them  to 
get  hurtit. ' ' 

"They  're  no'  leevin',"  he  remarked, 
it  might  be  a  little  contemptuously. 

"Weel,  they  're  no'  exac'ly  leevin', 
Wullie,  but-" 

"I'mno'Wullie!   I'm-" 

"Aw,  I  intendit  fur  to  say  Rubbert. 
Ye  maun  excuse  me,  fur  I  'm  that  bad 
at-" 

' '  I  'm  Jimsie. ' ' 

"  So  ye  are.  I  sud  ha  'e  mindit.  Aweel, 
Jimsie,  never  heed  the  birds  the  noo, 
an'  come  awa'  an'  ha'e  yer  bit  sang- 
widge  an'  jeely  piece.  An'  here  a  wee 
drap  mulk  fur  ye." 

With  some  ceremony  she  laid  a  small 
cloth  on  the  parlor  table,  and  set  thereon 
the  meal  for  the  youngster,  who  was  not 
long  in  accepting  her  invitation  to  fall 
to. 

When  the  sandwich  and  most  of  the 


174  MRS.   M'LERIE 

bread  and  jelly  had  disappeared,  he 
turned  to  her  and,  with  his  mouth  full, 
observed : 

"Whit  wey  dae  ye  keep  deid  birds, 
mistress  ? ' ' 

"Deid?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  as 
if  she  had  received  a  shock.  ' '  They  're 
no*  deid— onywey,  they  're  jist  as  guid 
as  leevin'  yins,  an'  they  're  faur  brawer 
nor  ony  I  ever  seen.  Are  they  no', 
dearie?" 

' '  They  canna  cheep. ' ' 

"Ah,  but  they  cud  cheep  yinst  upon 
a  time.  The  captain  that  gi'ed  them  to 
me  tell't  me  they  wis  a'  bonny  singers 
when— when  they  wis  fleein'  aboot  in 
furrin  pairts." 

"Whit  wey  dae  they  no'  sing  noo?" 

"Aweel,  ye  see,  they  're  whit  they  ca' 
stuffed  birds,  an'  stuffed  birds  never 
sings,  ye  ken.  Did  ye  never  see  stuffed 
birds  afore?" 


JIMSIE  175 

"Naw.  Wud  they  no'  cheep  if  ye  wis 
squeezin'  them  or  jaggin'  them  wi' 
preens  f ' ' 

"Mercy  on  us!  Ye  mauna  say  sic 
things,  Erchie— I  mean  Jimsie." 

' '  Thon  wee  bew  yin  's  got  awf u '  queer 
een.  Ye  can  pick  them  oot  an '  pit  them 
back,  an '  it  's  nane  the  waur. '  ' 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  nearly  fainted  with  hor- 
ror, but  her  visitor  evidently  thought  she 
was  merely  surprised  at  his  discovery, 
for  he  proceeded  to  explain  his  experi- 
ence during  her  absence  in  the  kitchen. 

"I  cudna  get  the  een  oot  the  biggest 
yin,  but  I  got  them  oot  the  wee  bew  yin 
as  easy  as  onythin'.  The  wee  bew  yin 
lukit  unco  funny  wantin'  it's  een.  Ye 
sud  try  pickin'  the  een  oot  the  ither 
yins,  mistress.  It  's— ' 

" Whisht,  whisht!  ...  Oh  me,  the 
day!"  Mrs.  M' Lerie  almost  rushed  to 
her  birds. 


176  MRS.   M'LERIE 

"I— I  didna  mean  it,"  cried  Jimsie, 
rather  alarmed.    He  crammed  the  last^ 
of  his  jelly  piece  into  his  mouth,  and 
followed  her. 

As  far  as  Mrs.  M'Lerie  could  see, 
there  was  no  damage  done,  and  as  soon 
as  she  recovered  from  her  dire  fright, 
she  forgave  the  young  innocent,  and  pre- 
sented him  with  a  couple  of  peppermints 
with  which  to  complete  his  repast.  At 
the  same  time  she  felt  she  would  like  to 
get  him  out  of  the  house. 

"Maybe  it  's  time  ye  wis  gaun  hame 
noo,"  she  said  gently. 

"Och,  I  'mno'heedin'." 

"Weel,  I  '11  gi'e  ye  a  penny  fur  the 
caur,  fur  ye  see  I  've  to  get  ready  fur 
ma  man  comin'  hame  to  his  tea." 

"I  'm  no'  heedin'  aboot  gaun  hame, 
mistress.  Ye  're  that  kind. ' ' 

' '  Ay,  ay, ' '  said  his  hostess,  pleasantly, 
as  she  patted  his  head.  "But  yer  mith- 


JIMSIE  177 

er  '11  be  wearyin'  fur  ye.  ...  An'  I  '11 
gi'e  ye  anither  penny  to  buy  sweeties 
to  taste  yer  gab  on  the  road  name. 
Whaur  's  yer  bunnet,  dearie  ?  Aw,  there 
it  is,  on  the  easy-chair.  .  .  .  Jist  bide  a 
meenit  till  I  get  ye  yer  tippence.  An* 
dinna  tich  the  birds,  dearie. ' ' 

She  hurried  from  the  room,  and  on 
her  return  a  couple  of  minutes  later  she 
found  the  boy  sitting  demurely  on  the 
edge  of  the  horse-hair  sofa. 

1  'Here  yer  tippence,"  she  said,  "an' 
be  shair  an'  gang  stracht  hame.  Dinna 
buy  ower-rich  sweeties  wi'  yer  penny; 
buy  baurley-sugar  or  toffee.  .  .  .  Are 
ye  shair  ye  ken  the  richt  caur?"  she 
asked,  as  she  led -him  to  the  door. 

"Ay,  fine." 

"Weel,  dicht  the  jeely  aff  yer  mooth, 
like  a  guid  laddie,  an '  tell  yer  maw  that 
Mistress  M'Lerie,  wha  kens  yer  auntie, 
wis  rale  gled  to  see  ye.  ...  Guid-bye, 


178  MRS.   M'LERIE 

dearie.  .  .  .  Maybe  ye  wud  gi'e  us  a 
kiss.  .  .  .  Guid-bye,  an'  dinna  get  rin 
ower. ' ' 

Jimsie  allowed  his  elderly  hostess  to 
kiss  him,  and  then,  with  a  hasty  farewell, 
bolted  down  the  stone  stair  as  if  he 
were  fleeing  from  Justice. 

* '  The  daurlin  '  I "  sighed  Mrs.  M'  Lerie 
to  herself,  as  she  shut  the  door  and  pre- 
pared to  resume  her  operations  on  the 
birds  and  their  case.  She  had  still  about 
an  hour  ere  it  was  time  to  get  ready  her 
husband's  evening  meal. 

She  entered  the  parlor,  smiled  to  see 
the  clear  plate  left  by  her  visitor,  and 
picked  up  the  small  brush  which  she 
had  laid  down  on  his  event. 

"I  'm  glad  he  didna  really  hurt  ma 
birds, ' '  she  thought.  "  He  's  but  a  wean, 
an'  he  didna  ken  ony  better,  but  I  wud 
ha'e  been  sair  vexed  if  he  had—  Oh!" 

She  fairly  staggered,  for  the  conven- 


JIMSIE  179 

tionally  rustic  perch  which  had  sus- 
tained the  "wee  bew  bird"  was  vacant. 

' '  Ma  bird  's  awa ' ! "  she  cried,  peering 
stupidly  about  the  room,  as  though  the 
thing  had  flown  of  its  own  accord.  And 
presently  the  ugly  truth  dawned  upon 
her.  "He's  tooken  ma  bird!  He's 
tooken  ma  bird. ' ' 

She  fled  from  the  parlor,  from  the 
house,  down  the  two  flights  of  stairs, 
through  the  entry,  and  into  the  street, 
where  she  stood  for  nearly  five  minutes, 
a  helpless,  pathetic  figure.  No  sign 
could  she  see  of  the  thief.  Breathless, 
and  too  wretched  to  be  enraged,  she  as- 
cended to  her  house  .again,  and  there 
realized  that  she  must  have  Mrs.  Mun- 
ro's  advice  and  assistance.  Presently 
she  set  out  for  her  friend's  house. 

•  ••••• 

"If  I  wis  you,  Mistress  M'Lerie," 
said  Mrs.  Munro,  boiling  with  sym- 


180  MES.  M'LERIE 

pathetic  wrath,  "I  wud  gang  to  the 
polls." 

"But  wud  the  polls  get  back  ma 
bird?" 

*  *  The  polls  wud  punish  the  wee  deevil 
that  stole  it,  onywey." 

1 ' Ay,  but-" 

"An'  maybe  the  detectives  wud  dis- 
cover the  bird  fur  ye." 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  shook  her  head  dole- 
fully. "Geordie  '11  ha'e  pickit  oot  its 
een  by  this  time,  an'  he  '11  be  squeezin' 
it  an'  stickin'  preens  in  it  fur  to  gar  it 
cheep.  An '  it  canna  cheep,  puir  thing ! ' ' 

"I  thocht  ye  said  his  name  wis 
Davie. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  Whitever  his 
name  is,  he  's  awa'  wi'  ma  bird.  An' 
I  '11  never  see  it  again,  Mistress  Munro, 
I  '11  never  see  it  again ! ' ' 

"Oh,  dinna  be  dooncast,  Mistress 
M'Lerie." 


JIMSIE  181 

"  Ye  wud  be  dooncast  yersel'  if  —  " 
"Ay,  ay.    But  folk  sud  aye  try  fur  to 
bear  up  in  affliction.  ...  I  '11  jist  tak' 
a  walk  ower  bye  wi '  ye  an '  see  whit  's  to 
be  dune." 

"I  'm  shair  I  'm  vexed  to  trouble  ye, 
Mistress  Munro, ' '  said  Mrs.  W  Lerie,  as 
they  proceeded  to  her  house.  "But  I 
wis  near  dementit  when  I  seen  ma  bird 
wis  awa'." 

* '  It  wud  be  a  shock  to  ye,  nae  doot. ' ' 
"Ay,  it  wis  a'  that— a  shock  to  ma 
nervous  cistern,  as  the  doctor  said  to 
Mistress  Scott  when  she  fell  doon  the 
washin'-hoose  steps  intil  a  byne  o'  sapey 
watter,  an'  her  cairryin'  the  baikie  fur- 
bye." 

1 '  Ye  mean  system,  Mistress  M'  Lerie. ' ' 

"Aweel,  it  's  a'  yin.  .  .  .  Ma  bird  's 

awa',   onywey,   an'   I  '11  never   see  it 

again. ' ' 

Little    more    was    said    until    they 


182  MRS.  M'LERIE 

reached  the  parlor,  and  then  at  the  sight 
of  the  deserted  perch,  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
nearly  broke  down. 

But  Mrs.  Munro  burst  out  laughing. 
"Whit  's  thon  on  the  ornament  on  the 
mantelpiece  thonderT'  she  cried. 

"Ma  bird,  ma  bird,  MA  BIRD!"  gasped 
her  old  friend. 


XIII 

MRS.   DUMPHY   CALLS 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Gled  to  see  ye,  Mis- 
tress Dumphy.  Come  nearer  the  fire, 
see.  Is  't  no '  awf u '  cauld  the  day  ? 

Mrs.  DumpUy.  'Deed  ay,  it  's  cauld. 
Ye  're  fine  an'  warm  in  here,  though. 
Phoo !  I  think  I  'U  jist  tak'  aff  ma  tip- 
pet. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Ay,  jist  tak'  aff  yer 
tippet,  Mistress  Dumphy,  an'  ye  '11  get 
the  guid  o '  't  when  ye  gang  ootbye  again. 
Ye  're  lukin '  rale  weel. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Aweel,  I  mauna  grum- 
mle.  Ma  hoast  's  near  aboot  better, 
thenk  ye.  But  it  wis  awf  u '  bad  on  Set- 
terday. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Sympathetically.) 
D'ye  tell  me  that? 

183 


184  MRS.  M'LERIE 

Mrs.  Dumpliy.  Ay.  Ma  throat  wis 
that  kitly  an'  I  hoasted  an'  hoasted  till 
I  thocht  I  wis  by  wi '  't. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Sirs,  the  day!  Wis 
the  cauld  in  yer  kist? 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Na.  The  doctor  said 
there  wis  some  information  aboot  ma- 
ma— ma —  'Deed,  I  furget  whit  he  ca'ed 
it.  It  's  the  wee  rid  wagglin'  thing  at 
the  back  o '  yer  mooth. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  I  ken  whit  ye  mean, 
Mistress  Dumphy,  though  I  furget  the 
name  o '  't.  It  's  the  wee  thing  that  keeps 
the  meat  frae  gaun  doon  the  wrang  wey. 
Whit  's  this  they  ca'  it  noo!  ...  I  ken 
fine  if  I  cud  jist  mind  it. 

Mrs.  Dumpliy.  I  had  it  on  the  pint 
o'  ma  tongue  the  noo,  but  it  slippit 
awa'. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Suddenly.}  I  ken! 
It  's  yer  alluvial  ye  're  thinkin'  o' !  Yer 
alluvial,  Mistress  Dumphy. 


MRS.   DUMPHY  CALLS          185 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Ye  're  richt!  Aweel, 
the  doctor  pentit  it  wi'  some  sticky  stuff 
twa- three  times,  an'  it  got  a  wee  better, 
but  I  cudna  stir  a  fit  to  the  kirk  on  the 
Sawbath. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  D'ye  tell  me  that? 
But  ye  canna  be  ower  caref u '  wi '  yer  al- 
luvial, fur  if  ye  neglec'  it,  it  '11  get  that 
big  that  it  '11  waggle  richt  doon  yer 
throat  an'  choke  ye.  I  'm  rale  gled 
ye  're  better. 

Mrs.  Dumpliy.  Aweel,  I  'm  gettin' 
auld,  an'  I  daursay  the  time  's  comin' 
when  I  '11  no'  get  better.  Fine  I  mind 
hoo  ma  guidman  used  to  say- 
Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Hoots,  toots!  Ye  're 
no'  that  auld!  I  'm  thinkin'  it  's  masel' 
wha  '11  be  awa'  first.  But,  losh  me! 
wumman,  Ne'erday  's  no'  the  time  fur 
speakin'  o'  sic  melancholical  maitters. 
Ye  '11  tak'  a  bit  dram,  seein'  it  's  the 
New  Year. 


186  MRS.   M'LERIE 

Mrs.  Dumpily.  Na,  na.  Thenk  ye  a' 
the  same,  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Rising  and  going  to 
cupboard.)  Havers!  Me  an'  you  Js 
auld  freen's,  an'  auld  freen's  maun  ha'e 
a'- 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  (Raising  a  black- 
gloved  hand  in  protest.)  Aw,  but  I 
really  cudna  tak'  it. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Genially,  as  she  pro- 
duces decanter  and  glasses.)  Aeh,  awa' 
wi'  ye!  I  '11  jist  gi'e  ye  a  wee  taste— 
jist  a  toothfu'. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Weel,  jist  a  toothfu', 
Mistress  M'  Lerie,  thenk  ye  kindly.  The 
doctor  said  I  wud  be  nane  the  waur  o' 
a  taste  o '  speerits  whiles,  but  fur  ma  ain 
pairt—  Weel,  weel,  it 's  no'  the  New 
Year  every  day ;  is  it,  Mistress  M'  Lerie  I 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Filling  glass.)  'Deed 
no. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.    Oh,  stope,  stope !  Jist 


MRS.  DUMPHY  CALLS          187 

the  hauf  o'  that!  I  doot  ye  're  gi'ein' 
me  mair  nor  a  toothf u ' ! 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Haud  yer  tongue! 
I  '11  no '  gi  'e  ye  onythin '  that  's  no '  guid 
fur  ye.  Ma  glesses  is  extraor'nar'  sma' 
yins,  ye  ken. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Is  that  so?  ...  Ay, 
thenk  ye,  I  '11  tak'  a  drappie  watter.  .  .  . 
Ay,  ay!  Weel,  here  's  to  ye,  Mistress 
M'Lerie.  A  guid  New  Year  to  you 
an'  yer  man  an'  the  bairns  that  's  a' 
sprung  up  an'  left  ye.  (Tastes  liquor.) 
Ay,  ay!  I  'm  shair  I  wish  ye  may  be 
spared  fur  mony  a  year,  Mistress 
M'  Lerie. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  'Deed,  I  'm  no' 
thinkin'  o'  deein'  fur  a  wee,  onywey. 
(Raising  glass.)  Yer  guid  health,  Mis- 
tress Dumphy,  an'  I  wish  ye  may  ha'e 
nae  mair  trouble  wi'  yer  alluvial!  I 
wudna  say  but  whit  a  taste  o'  speerits 
wud  be  guid  fur  yer  alluvial. 


188  MRS.  M'LERIE 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Weel,  ye  never  can 
tell.  This  is  vera  fine  whusky. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Mphm !  It  's  no '  that 
bad.  Ma  man  aye  gets  a  wee  jaur  aboot 
this  time  o'  the  year.  We  're  no'  big 
drinkers,  Rubbert  an'  me,  but  we  aye 
like  a  taste  fur  wur  freen's  an'  wursel's 
aboot  Ne  'erday.  I  mind  yin  year  Rul> 
bert  got  a  dizzen  o '  clairet  instead  o '  the 
wee  jaur  o'  whusky,  fur  we  had  young 
yins  comin '  aboot  the  hoose,  an '  leemon- 
ade  's  mair  puff  nor  pleesure,  as  ma 
brither.  Peter  says;  but  the  clairet  was 
gey  wersh,  an'  we  never  had  it  i'  the 
hoose  again.  We  jist  gi'ed  the  young 
yins  ginger-beer  an'  a'  the  bun  they  cud 
eat,  an'  they  liket  it  fine,  I  warrant  ye! 
Rubbert  said  he  thocht  wur  pallets— wur 
stomachs,  ye  ken— wisna  eddicated  up 
to  chice  wines,  as  he  ca'ed  them ;  an'  my 
brither  Peter— he  's  an  awfu'  blether, 
Peter — he  said  there  wis  sayin's  in  the 


MRS.  DUMPHY   CALLS          189 

Guid  Book  ag'in'  wine-bibbers,  but  nane 
ag'in'  them  as  tuk  a  taste  o'  whusky 
whiles,  but  no'  ower  aften.  Onyweys, 
we  had  nae  mair  clairet,  an'  Rubbert  jist 
got  the  wee  jaur  o'  whusky,  the  same  as 
yer  tastin'  noo,  Mistress  Dumphy.  (Sips 
a  little  and  softly  smacks  her  tongue 
against  the  roof  of  her  mouth.) 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  An'  it  's  vera  guid 
whusky,  as  I  said  afore,  Mistress  M*  Le- 
rie.  (Sips.)  Ay,  ay!  It  's  vera  guid 
whusky.  .  .  .  Wud  ye  believe  me,  I 
hivna  had  speerits  in  the  hoose  since  ma 
man  dee'd,  an'  that  's  twal'  year  come 
Mairch  the  seeventeenth.  I  hivna  had 
speerits  in  the  hoose  since  ma  man  dee  'd 
— Na!  ...  I  'mwrang!  .  .  .  There  wis 
speerits  efter  the  funeral.  Ay,  efter  the 
funeral.  .  .  .  But  there  wisna  a  drap 
left  when  the  folk  had  ga'en  awa'.  .  .  . 
Hech !  Sirs,  the  day !  Twal '  year  come 
Mairch  the  seeventeenth.  Aw,  Mistress 


190  MRS.   M'LERIE 

M'Lerie,  it  's  fine  fur  you  that  has  yer 
man  wi'  ye,  an'  yer  bairns  comin'  aboot 
ye  whiles. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Solemnly.)  'Deed, 
ay!  Me  an'  Kubbert  has  muckle  to  be 
thenkfu'fur.  (Cheerfully.)  Never  heed, 
Mistress  Dumphy,  never  you  heed.  It  '11 
a'  be  made  up  to  ye  some  day!  .  .  . 
Tak'  a  wee  bit  bun.  See,  there  a  nice 
bit. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Aw,  I  cudna,  thenk 
ye  a '  the  same.  It  's  rale  nice  bun. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Weel,  jist  assist  yer- 
sel'.  It  '11  no'  hurt  ye. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  I  'm  kin'  o'  feart 
fur  the  awmonds  in  't.  Dae  ye  no' 
think  awmonds  an'  peel  is  unco  ill  to 
digeest? 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Laughing.)  No'  at 
Ne'erday,  no'  at  Ne'erday,  Mistress 
Dumphy!  They  're  Gordon  awmonds, 
an'  the  peel  's  jist  the  finest  oranger  an' 


MRS.  DUMPHY  CALLS          191 

cistern,  an '  a  pun '  o '  the  bun  wudna  hurt 
a  flea. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Weel,  jist  the  hauf 
o'  't,— jist  a  tate. 

Mrs.M'Lerie.  Tits,  wumman !  Tak' 
up  the  piece !  The  speerits  '11  keep  ye 
richt.  .  .  .  Losh  me!  yer  gless  is  jist 
aboot  emp  'y. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Oh,  I  've  plenty 
here.  I  wis  jist  thinkin'  I  wudna  be 
able  to  feenish  it,  Mistress  M'Lerie, 
beggin'  yer  paurdon  fur  sayin'  sic  a 
thing. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Oh,  ye  maun  feenish 
it,  or  I  '11  be  unco  offendit.  Ha !  ha !  .  .  . 
No*  really  offendit,  ye  ken.  .  .  .  But 
it  's  the  vera  thing  fur  folk  wi '  the  dregs 
o'  a  cauld  hingin'  aboot  them.  Efter 
a',  ye  micht  conseeder  it  as  meddicine, 
fur  it  's  no'  a  thing  ye  're  takin'  fre- 
quentlike.  .  .  .  Ay.  An'  ha'e  ye  ony 
word  o'  yer  auld  freen'  Mistress  Jamie- 


192  MRS.   M'LERIE 

son— her  that  gaed  to  bide  at  Stra'- 
bungo I 

Mrs.  Dumpliy.  Aw,  puir  thing,  I 
doot  she  's  gey  faur  through.  She  's 
been  rale  badly  since  the  simmer  wi' 
pains  in  her  back.  I  doot  she  's  near  by 
wi'  't.  I  canna  mind  the  name  o'  the 
disease— somethin'  like  " attic." 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Oh,  ay.  I  ken  whit  ye 
mean.  It  's  the  asiatic  she  's  got.  I 
mind  the  names  of  maist  diseases,  fur 
I  yinst  had  a  young  doctor  fur  a  ludger. 
Onywey,  he  wud  ha'e  been  a  doctor  if 
he  hadna  changed  his  mind  an'  gaed 
awa'  fur  to  be  a  sojer.  He  wis  a  rale 
nice  young  man.  He  wud  get  me  ben  to 
the  paurlor  when  he  wis  at  his  tea,  an' 
tell  aboot  folk  gettin'  their  airms  an' 
legs  cut  aff.  An'  he  used  to  tell  me 
furbye  o'  a'  the  diseases  me  an'  ma  man 
wud  ha'e  if  we  leeved  lang  enough  an' 
ett  saumon  an'  things  oot  o'  tins.  I 


MRS.   DUMPHY  CALLS          193 

wis  that  vexed  when  he  gaed  awa',  fur 
he  wis  a  cheery  yin  to  ha'e  in  the  hoose, 
an'  rale  nice  an'  frank  wi'  me  an'  ma 
man,  an'- 

Mrs.  DumpTiy.  Ay,  ay!  But  I  'm 
feart  puir  Mistress  Jamieson  's  near  by 
wi'  't. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  D'ye  tell  me  that? 
But— but  ye  mauna  be  thinkin'  o'  sic 
melancholical  maitters  the  day,  wum- 
man!  Yer  gless  is  emp'y.  Ha'e! 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Na,  na.  Thenk  ye  a' 
the  same. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Hoots!  Jist  hauf  a 
toothfu'.  .  .  .  Na?  Aweel,  I  wadnatak' 
ony  mair  masel ',  but  you  bein '  whit  the 
doctors  ca'  in  the  complacent  stage  o' 
recovery,  I  thocht  ye  micht  be  the  bet- 
ter o'  a  little  extra  stimulation,  as  it 
were.  But  try  anither  bit  bun.  Here 
a  bit  wi'  nae  awmonds  in  it.  ... 
Na?  No'  a  bit  bun  either?  Weel, 

13 


194  MRS.   M'LERIE 

weel,  ye  inaun  please  yersel',  Mistress 
Dumphy. 

(Conversation  lapses  for  a  minute.) 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  (Mournfully.)  Ay, 
as  I  wis  sayin',  I  'm  feart  puir  Mistress 
Jamieson  's  near  by  wi'  't.  Dearie  me! 
to  think  o'  a'  the  folk  that  's  deid  wha 
wis  yinst  leevin' !  A'  ma  auld  freen's  is 
slippin'  awa'.  D'ye  ken?  I— I  brocht 
in  the  New  Year  a'  ma  lanesome— a*  ma 
lanesome. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  D'ye  tell  me  that? 
Oh,  sirs,  that  wis  a  sad  job!  Whit  wey 
did  ye  no  tak'  the  caur  an'  gi'e  us  a 
ca'?  ...  A'  yer  lanesome,  an'  me  an' 
you  wis  lassies  thegither! 

(The  conversation  breaks  once  more. 
Mrs.  Dumphy  is  in  tears;  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
is  on  the  verge.  Presently  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie is  struck  by  an  idea.) 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (To  herself.)  I  wun- 
ner  whit  Eubbert  wud  dae.  I  wunner 


MRS.  DUMPHY  CALLS          195 

whit  Rubbert  wud  dae.  Rubber!  cud 
never  thole  Weelyum  Dumphy,  but 
that  's  an  auld  story.  .  .  .  Rubbert  didna 
want  folk  on  Ne'erday  nicht  as  weel  as 
Hogmanay.  Rubbert  wantit  me  an '  him 
to  ha'e  a  wee  bit  supper  thegither,  wi'oot 
ony  falderals.  .  .  .  But  I  wunner  whit 
Rubbert  wud  dae.  I  wish  he  wud  come 
in.  I  dinna  want  to  dae  the  wrang 
thing.  .  .  .  But  Rubbert  had  aye  a  guid 
heart,  though  he  cudna  thole  "Weelyum 
Dumphy. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  (Rising.)  I  '11  ha'e 
to  be  gaun  noo.  Whaur  did  I  pit  ma 
tippet ! 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  (Hastily  rousing  her- 
self.) Toots!  Whit's  a'  yer  hurry? 
Rest  ye,  rest  ye. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Na,  na.  Thenk  ye 
kindly  a'  the  same,  but  I  maun  be  gaun. 
Aw,  here  ma  tippet  ablow  the  chair. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.     (Aside.)     I  wunner 


196  MRS.   M'LERIE 

whit  Rubber!  '11  say.  (Aloud.)  Are  ye 
gaun  to  some  pairty  the  nicht,  Mistress 
Dumphy? 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Na,  na.  I  wis  jist 
gaun  hame.  There  's  naebody— 

Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Bide  whaur  ye  are  an ' 
tak'  a  bit  supper  wi'  me  an'  Rubbert. 

Mrs.  Dumphy.  Aw,  I  cudna.  Thenk 
ye  kindly  a'  the  same,  but  I  really  cudna 
bide. 

(But  she  does  "bide";  and  Rubbert, 
on  his  return,  conceals  his  disappoint- 
ment and  plays  the  host  to  the  best  of 
his  ability,  and  to  his  wife's  intense  re- 
lief.) 


XIV 

JOHN  MUNKO  M'CULLOCH 

"AN'  this  is  ma  dochter's  laddie," 
y~V  continued  Mrs.  Munro,  after  she 
had  greeted  her  old  friend.  "Come 
furrit,  John,  an'  say  'Hoo  d'  ye  do?' 
to  Mistress  M'  Lerie. ' ' 

The  youngster,  who  had  been  hanging 
back  in  a  shy  fashion,  came  forward  as 
he  was  bidden  and  mumbled  ' '  Hoo  d '  ye 
do  I "  as  if  he  grudged  it. 

"I  'm  rale  weel,  thenk  ye,  dearie," 
Mrs.  M 'Lerie  returned,  patting  his 
head  kindly.  "An'  I  'm  rale  gled  to 
see  ye—  Whit  did  ye  say  his  name 
wis?"  she  asked,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Munro. 

197 


198  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"Tell  Mistress  M'Lerie  yer  name, 
John,"  said  the  latter. 

"John,"  said  John. 

"John  whit?" 

"John  Munro." 

"But  that  's  no' it  a'." 

"John  Munro  M'Culloch,"  said  the 
boy,  staring  about  the  room. 

* '  That 's  a  fine  name, ' '  remarked  Mrs. 
M'Lerie  pleasantly.  "A  fine  name  fur 
a  fine  laddie.  An'  hoo  auld  are  ye!" 

John,  with  his  gaze  fixed  on  the  case 
of  stuffed  birds,  appeared  not  to  hear 
the  question,  and  Mrs.  Munro  said: 

"Tell  Mistress  M'Lerie  hoo  auld  ye 
are,  laddie." 

"Five  an' a  hauf.  Whit  funny  birds, 
Granny !  Can  I  get  playin '  wi '  them  ? ' ' 

"Na,  na.  But  ye  can  get  lukin'  at 
them,  if  ye  're  guid,"  his  relative  re- 
plied. 

' '  'Deed  ay ! "  said  the  hostess, ' '  he  can 


get  lukin'  at  them,  an'  welcome!  But 
maybe  he  wud  like  a  piece  first,  Mis- 
tress Munro?" 

"He  disna  need  a  piece.  He  's  jist 
had  his  dinner." 

' '  But  weans  is  aye  ready  fur  a  piece, 
an'  I  've  some  rale  nice  jeely  in  the 
press.  .  .  .  Wud  ye  like  a  piece,  dearie  ? ' ' 

"Fine!"  said  John,  promptly,  evad- 
ing his  grandmother's  warning  glance. 

' '  Ye  sud  say  '  If  ye  please, '  '  said 
the  latter  severely. 

"If  ye  please,"  he  echoed  placidly, 
still  intent  on  the  birds. 

Cheerfully  Mrs.  M'Lerie  set  about 
preparing  the  piece,  and  when  she  had 
given  it  to  him  and  received  his  thanks, 
which  were  prompted  in  a  loud  whisper 
by  Mrs.  Munro,  she  took  the  chair 
opposite  her  friend,  saying:  "Ye  wis 
wantin'  to  tell  me  somethin'  parteeclar, 
wis  ye  no',  Mistress  Munro!" 


200  MES.  M'LERIE 

"I  wis  that,"  returned  Mrs.  Munro. 
''An'  I  wis  gaun  to  ask  a  great  favor, 
Mrs.  M.1  Lerie. ' ' 

' '  It  's  grantit  afore  ye  ask  it. ' ' 

"I  'm  shair  I  'm  greatly  obleeged  to 
ye.  Well,  Mistress  M'  Lerie,  I  'm  in  a 
quandary,  as  it  were." 

"A  whit?" 

"A  quandary  means  a  kin'  o'  deeffi- 
culty." 

"I  thocht  it  wis  a  beast." 

"If  it  wis  a  beast,  I  doot  I  wudna 
be  here  to  tell  ye  aboot  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Munro,  smiling. 

"I  'in  gled  ye  're  no'  in  a  beast  ony- 
wey,"  said  her  friend  half  seriously, 
"fur  there  wud  be  srna'  chance  o' 
winnin'  oot.  An'  whit  's  the  deeffi- 
culty,  Mrs.  Munro?" 

"I  '11  tell  ye  in  as  few  words  as  is 
possible,  fur  I  maun  get  haine  in  twa- 
three  meenits.  Ye  see,  ma  dochter  's 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      201 

wi '  nie  the  noo,  an '  she  's  awf  u '  bad  wi ' 
the  cauld  in  her  held,  but  she  's  set  her 
he'rt  on  gettin'  John  a  new  bunnet  fur 
the  Sawbath,  an'  she  askit  me  to  tak' 
him  doon  to  Argyle  Street  an'  buy  him 
yin,  but  I  'm  sweirt  to  leave  her  an' 
her  baby  sae  lang  in  the  hoose  their 
lanesomes,  an '  I  wis  wunnerin '  if  ye  cud 
be  sae  vera  obleegin'  as  to  be  fashed 
takin'  John  doon  to  Argyle  Street  an' 
buyin'  him  a  new  bunnet.  That  's  the 
great  favor  I  wis  referrin'  to,  Mistress 
M'Lerie." 

"An'  as  I  said  afore,  it  's  grantit," 
said  Mrs.  M'Lerie  kindly,  though  she 
was  far  from  delighted  at  the  thought 
of  undertaking  the  commission.  "Ay, 
it  's  freely  grantit,  Mistress  Munro," 
she  added,  *  *  fur  I  'm  vexed  to  hear  yer 
dochter  's  no'  weel.  As  ye  see,  I  'm 
ready  fur  the  road  onywey,  fur  I  wis 
gaun  to  gi'e  puir  Mistress  Dumphy  a 


202  MRS.  M'LERIE 

ca'.  She  's  in  a  sair  melancholical  con- 
deetion  the  noo.  But  I  '11  jist  ha'e  to 
gang  to  see  her  anither  day.  But  if  I  'm 
gaun  to  Argyle  Street,  I  '11  pit  on  ma 
gloves. ' ' 

"We  micht  gang  thegither  the 
morn,"  suggested  Mrs.  Munro,  "an' 
try  an'  cheer  her  up  a  bit.  But  she  wis 
aye  a  wumman  o'  whit  ye  micht  ca' 
broodin'  habits." 

"I  doot  she  wis,  puir  buddy.  .  .  . 
An'  whit  kin'  o'  a  bunnet  am  I  to  buy 
fur —  Whit  did  ye  say  his  name  wis  ? ' ' 

"John." 

"Weel,  whit  kin'  o'  a  bunnet  am  I 
to  buy?  Sirs  the  day!  It  's  mony  a 
lang  year  since  I  bocht  a  bunnet  fur  a 
laddie!" 

"Ye  Ve  to  get  him  a  Glengarry,  an' 
there  the  money  fur  it." 

"A  Glengarry.  I  maun  try  an' mind 
that." 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      203 


the  same  as  he  's  got  the  noo. 
So  ye  canna  mak'  a  mistak'.  But," 
continued  Mrs.  Munro  in  a  whisper, 
"he  's  got  an  awfu'  cravin',  as  it  were, 
fur  a  Kilmarnock,  an'  he  '11  likely  be 
tryin'  to  get  ye  to  buy  him  yin  instead 
o'  the  Glengarry." 

"But  can  he  no'  get  a  Kilmarnock, 
if  he  wants  it?"  inquired  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 

"His  mither  thinks  it  disna  become 
him,"  said  Mrs.  Munro.  "So  jist  you 
never  heed  him,  an'  get  him  a  Glen- 
garry. Noo  I  maun  gang.  An'  I  'm 
vera  greatly  obleeged  to  ye.  .  .  .  John 
Munro  M'Culloch!"  she  cried  sud- 
denly, "whit  are  ye  daein'  at  Mistress 
M'Lerie's  birds?" 

"Naethin',"  the  boy  replied. 

"I  hope  ye  hivna  jeelied  the  nice 
gless  case.  Eh?" 

John  shook  his  head  violently.  "I 
wis  jist  lukin'  at  the  birds,"  he  said. 


204  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"  A'  weans  taks  a  fancy  to  rna  birds, ' ? 
said  Mrs.  M'Lerie  with  pride. 

"Are  yer  birds  real  yins?"  asked 
John. 

"Ay,  they  're  real,"  quickly  returned 
the  owner. 

John  said  nothing,  but  he  looked  as 
if  he  did  not  believe  her. 

"Mistress  M'Lerie  's  gaun  to  tak'  ye 
to  get  a  braw  new  Glengarry  bunnet," 
Mrs.  Munro  said  as  she  carefully 
wiped  his  mouth  with  his  handkerchief. 
"An'  ye  '11  be  a  guid  laddie  an'  dae 
as  she  bids  ye." 

"I  'm  no '  wantin '  to  gang  wi '  her, ' ' 
he  replied  ungraciously. 

"Ye  wee  rascal!  ha'e  ye  nae  main- 
ners?"  cried  Mrs.  Munro,  with  indig- 
nation. "Efter  Mistress  M'Lerie  bein' 
so  kin'  as  to  say  she  wud  tak'  ye,  an' 
gi'ein'  ye  a  jeely  piece  furbye!  Wud 
ye  insult  ma  auld  f reen  "? " 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      205 

The  hostess  interposed  gently,  "Och, 
the  wean  didna  mean  onythin'  wrang. 
Did  ye,  dearie?" 

"It  wisna  you— it  wis  the  bunnet," 
he  muttered.  ' '  I  want  a  'marnock. ' ' 

"But  ye  '11  gang  wi'  me,"  she  said 
softly. 

"If  he  disna  gang  dooble-quick,  I  '11 
tell  his  fayther.  D'  ye  hear  that, 
John!"  said  Mrs.  Munro. 

"I  want  a  'marnock,  Granny." 

"Weel,  ye  canna  get  yin.  Ye  're 
ower  jimp  i'  the  face  fur  a  Kilmar- 
nock. ' ' 

"I  'mno'!" 

"Tits!  Come  awa',  Mistress 
M'Lerie,  an'  we  '11  set  oot.  I  'm 
vexed  fur  gi'ein'  ye  sic  a  job,  but  jist 
you  be  stric'  wi'  him,  an'  it  '11  be  a' 
richt.  Ye  can  bring  him  up  to  the  hoose 
on  yer  road  hame,  an'  I  '11  ha'e  a  dish 
o'  tea  ready  fur  ye,  though  I  ken  weel 


206  MRS.  M'LERIE 

enough  I  canna  produce  tea  hauf  as 
weel  's  yersel'.  Mony  's  the  time  I  Ve 
said  to  freen's,  'There  's  nae  tea  like 
Mistress  M'Lerie's!" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  accepted  the  compli- 
ment with  a  smile,  and  presently  the 
three  left  the  house. 

The  boy  was  sulkily  silent  until  he 
found  himself  alone  with  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
in  the  car,  when,  with  a  half -hopeful  ex- 
pression, he  looked  up  in  her  face. 

"  Are  ye  gaun  to  buy  us  a  'marnock? " 

"Na,  na,  dearie,"  she  replied  regret- 
fully, her  black-gloved  hand  tightening 
on  the  little  fingers.  "Ye  see,  I  maun 
buy  ye  whit  yer  mither  wants  ye  to 
ha'e.  Isthatno'richU" 

"Naw." 

"Oh—  'Deed,  I  Ve  furgot  yer  name. 
Whitwisit,  noo?" 

"I  '11  no'  tell  ye  if  ye  '11  no'  buy  us  a 
'marnock. ' ' 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      207 

"That  's  no'  vera  kin'  o'  ye,"  she 
said,  feeling  foolishly  hurt. 

"I  'm  no'  heedin'." 

"Aw,"  she  began,  and  stopped  for 
want  of  his  name.  "Ye  see,"  she  re- 
sumed, almost  wishing  she  had  refused 
Mrs.  Munro's  request,  "ye  see,  I  Ve 
got  to  dae  as  I  'm  bid  as  weel  as  yer- 
sel ',  an '  if  yer  mither  says  ye  Ve  to  get 
a— a— whit  wis  the  name  o'  the  bun- 
net?" 

"A  'marnock." 

"Eh?  .  .  .  Ah,  ye  rogue!"  she  ex- 
claimed, laughing  in  spite  of  herself, 
"ye  mauna  try  fur  to  cheat  yer  auld 
f reen '.  I  ken  ower  weel  it  wisna  a  Kil- 
marnock.  Whit  wis  the  name  o'  the 
ither  bunnet?" 

"I  '11  no'  tell  ye." 

"But  I  ken  it  's  the  same  as  the  yin 
ye  Ve  gotten  on,"  she  said  with  a  tri- 
umphant wag  of  her  head. 


208  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"I  '11  hide  it— I  '11  fling  it  awa'- 
when  we  get  to  the  shope!" 

"Oh,  me  the  day!  Wis  there  ever 
sic  a  wean!"  sighed  Mrs.  M'Lerie, 
"though  ma  ain  son  John  wis  an  unco 
mischeef  in  his  time.  .  .  .  Are  ye  no' 
gaun  to  tell  yer  name?"  she  said  aloud. 

"Naw." 

There  was  silence  for  several  min- 
utes, at  the  end  of  which  John,  with  an 
ingratiating  grin,  whispered: 

* '  Mistress.    Here ! ' ' 

Bending  down  her  head,  Mrs.  M'- 
Lerie  replied,  "Ay,  dearie.  Whit  is 
it!" 

"I  '11  tell  ye  ma  name,  an*  the 
name  o'  the  bunnet  I  've  on,  an'— an' 
I  '11  tak'  anither  bunnet  the  same,  if— 
if-" 

"Weel,  dearie?" 

"If  ye  '11  gi'e  us  yin  o'  yer  birds." 

"Whit?"    cried    Mrs.    M'Lerie    so 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      209 

sharply  that  the  other  passengers 
looked  at  her. 

"Yin  o'  yer  birds,"  calmly  repeated 
the  boy.  "I  wud  like  the  big  rid  yin. 
Eh?  Are  ye  on?" 

"Yin  o'  ma  birds,"  she  murmured, 
half  dazed.  Recovering  herself  at  last, 
she  said : 

"Na,  na.    I  cud  never  dae  that." 

"Whit  wey?    Ye  've  got  plenty." 

But  Mrs.  M'Lerie  only  shook  her 
head. 

"Aweel,  I  '11  no'  tell  ye  onythin'," 
he  said,  and  remained  dumb  for  the  rest 
of  the  car  journey. 

Arrived  in  Argyle  Street,  they 
walked  some  little  distance  eastward, 
and  then  they  halted,  Mrs.  M'Lerie 
peering  up  at  the  sign-board  of  a  large 
juvenile  outfitting  establishment. 

"Ay,  this  is  the  shope  Mistress 
Munro  tell't  me  to  try.  Come  awa', 

14 


210  MRS.  M'LERIE 

dearie,"  she  said,  turning  to  look  for 
her  charge. 

He  was  standing  beside  her— bare- 
headed. 

"Whaur  's  yer  bunnet?"  she  cried 
in  dismay. 

"I  '11  no '  tell  ye, ' '  he  retorted,  osten- 
tatiously opening  his  jacket. 

' '  Mercy  me !    Whit  am  I  to  dae  1 ' ' 

"If  ye  want  to  keep  the  big  rid  yin, 
I  '11  tak'  the  green  yin  wi'  the  toorie  on 
its  heid, ' '  he  offered  pleasantly. 

' '  D '  ye  mean  ma  birds  I ' ' 

"Ay.  The  big  rid  yin  's  the  best, 
but—  " 

"Oh,  but  I  cudna  pairt  wi'  ony  o' 
ma  birds.  .  .  .  Come  awa',  like  a  guid 
laddie,  an'  we  '11  gang  inside  the  shope. 
Ye  '11  get  yer  daith  o'  cauld,  wantin' 
yer  bunnet." 

But  John  was  gazing  toward  the 
street,  and  suddenly  he  cried:  "See, 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      211 

Mistress,  see!  There  's  a  man  wi' 
birds!" 

"Birds?  Ma  birds!"  gasped  Mrs. 
M'Lerie,  feeling  by  this  time  that  all 
dreadful  things  were  possible. 

"No'  your  birds,"  said  John  rudely. 
"Hear  them  cheepinM" 

It  was  a  vendor  of  penny  toys  that 
had  attracted  the  boy's  attention,  and  he 
was  now  gazing  at  them  with  covetous 
eyes. 

And  all  at  once  hope  flashed  into 
Mrs.  M'Lerie's  soul.  "Wud  ye  like  yin 
o'  thur?"  she  asked,  pointing  to  the 
tray  of  gorgeously  colored  feathers. 

"Ay,  fine!" 

"But  wud  ye  tak'  it  instead  o'  yin 
o'  ma  birds?" 

John  nodded,  his  eyes  glistening. 

Within  a  minute  a  brilliant  thing 
containing  a  hideous  squeaker  was  in 
his  hands. 


212  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"Noo,"  said  his  guardian,  plucking 
up  her  spirits,  "ye  're  gaun  to  tell 
me — " 

"Ma  name  's  John  Munro  M'Cul- 
loch,  an'  the  bunnet's  name  's  a  Glen- 
garry, ' '  he  replied,  producing  the  latter 
from  under  the  back  of  his  jacket. 

"Weel,  I  never!  It  bates  a'  hoo 
weans  can  think  o'  things!"  sighed 
Mrs.  M'Lerie.  Then  she  started. 
"Mistress  Munro!"  she  cried. 

"Ay,  it  's  jist  me,  Mistress  M'Lerie. 
When  I  got  hame,  ma  dochter  had  a 
f  reen '  wi '  her  wha  had  come  in  to  speir 
efter  her  health  an'  ha'e  a  keek  at  the 
baby— so  I  jist  tuk  the  next  caur, 
thinkin'  I  wud  be  pretty  shair  to  meet 
up  on  ye  in  the  shope.  But  whit  wey 
are  ye  no'  inside  yet?" 

Mrs.  M'Lerie  glanced  at  the  ab- 
sorbed face  of  the  author  of  her  trou- 
bles. To  herself  she  said:  "Aweel, 


JOHN  MUNRO  M'CULLOCH      213 

it  's  a '  yin,  fur  he  's  but  a  wean ' ' ;  and 
to  her  friend  she  said  as  lightly  as  she 
could,  "Och,  we  wis  jist  ha'ein'  a  bit 
luk  roon '  first. ' ' 

"Weel, "  returned  Mrs.  Munro,  "it  's 
maybe  jist  as  weel  ye  didna  gang  in- 
side afore  I  cam',  fur  his  mither  had 
kin'  o'  changed  her  mind  an'  thocht  he 
micht  get  a  Kilmarnock,  seein'  he  wis 
that  set  on  it.  ...  Whit  's  that  ye  Ve 
gotten,  John?"  she  asked  her  grand- 
son. 

' '  It  's  a  bird,  Granny.  It  's  a  brawer 
yin  nor  ony  o'  hers,  is  't  no'?"  said 
John  Munro  M'Culloch,  with,  how- 
ever, quite  a  kindly  glance  towards 
Mrs.  M'Lerie. 


XV 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE 


I  TELL  ye,  wumman,  I  'm  no'  gaun 
to  tak'  it!"  The  old  man  waved 
away  the  glass  which  his  wife  had  pa- 
tiently held  out  to  him  for  nearly  five 
minutes. 

"Aw,  Rubbert,  ye  micht  try  an'  tak' 
it,"  she  pleaded;  "it  's  no'  that  ill  to 
tak '.  See !  I  '11  taste  it  masel ', ' '  she 
went  on,  and  took  a  sip  of  the  nauseous- 
looking  dose.  "Come,  dearie,  an'  try 
.  an '  swallow  it. ' ' 

"Awa'  wi'  't!  awa'  wi'  't!"  he  cried 
crossly.  "I  Ve  never  tiched  meddicine 
yet,  an '  I  'm  no '  gaun  to  begin  noo ! ' ' 

* '  But  it  's  fur  yer  ain  guid.  It  '11  mak ' 
ye  better." 

214 


ME.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  215 

"The  sicht  o'  't  's  made  me  waur 
a 'readies.  Pit  it  doon  the  jawbox  an' 
be  dune  wi'  't!  I  wunner  at  ye,  wum- 
man,  fashin'  me  wi'  yer  nesty  mixture— 
feech!— an'  ma  heid  that  bad."  And 
Mr.  M'Lerie  lay  back  in  his  arm-chair 
by  the  kitchen  fire,  and  groaned  with 
exceeding  bitterness. 

"But  it  '11  mak'  yer  heid  better,  Eub- 
bert,"  said  his  wife,  gently,  as  she  ad- 
justed the  blanket  which  had  slipped 
from  his  shoulders.  "Noo,  dinna  let 
yersel '  get  cauld. ' ' 

"Ye  're  pitten  me  intil  a  perfect 
stew,"  he  complained,  trying  to  get  rid 
of  the  blanket. 

"Ye  maun  keep  warm.  Ye  ken  the 
doctor  said  ye  wis  to  bide  in  yer  bed. 
I  'm  shair  I  dinna  ken  whit  he  '11  say 
when  he  comes  an '  sees  ye  up. ' ' 

"Ach!  the  doctor's  a  bletherin' 
buddy!  Na,  na,  I  'm  no'  fur  it,"  he 


216  MRS.   M'LERIE 

exclaimed,  as  she  once  more  presented 
the  physic. 

"But,  Rubbert-" 

"I  'm  tellin'  ye  I  wudna  taste  it  to 
please  the  King. ' ' 

"But  ye  micht  tak'  it  to  please  me," 
said  his  wife,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Ach,  haud  yer  tongue,  Sarah!  I  '11 
be  deid  shin  eneugh  wi'oot  ony  drug- 
gist's pooshon." 

"Oh,  Rubbert!"  Mrs.  M'Lerie  sighed, 
and  placed  the  glass  on  the  mantelpiece. 
"Are  ye  feelin'  ony  easier?"  she  asked, 
after  a  dull  period  of  silence. 

"Naw!   I  'mfreezin'!" 

"Ye  sud  ha'e  kep'  the  blanket  aboot 
ye, ' '  she  said,  tucking  it  round  his  shoul- 
ders. "Is  yer  feet  cauld?" 

"Ay." 

She  quickly  procured  a  shawl  and 
wrapped  it  about  his  extremities. 

"I  didna  say  I  wantit  to  be  roastit," 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  217 

he  grumbled,  and  kicked  away  the  shawl. 
'  *  Can  I  no '  get  peace ! ' ' 

*  *  'Deed,  Rubbert, ' '  she  replied  sadly, 
"that  's  jist  whit  I  want  to  gi'e  ye— in- 
side as  weel  as  ootside."  She  glanced 
at  the  glass  on  the  mantelpiece,  and  then 
at  him. 

"Ye  're  tryin'  to  dae  whit  thon  daft 
doctor  tell't  ye.  Weeman  '11  dae  ony- 
thin'  a  doctor  says.  I  'm  shair  I  never 
wantit  a  doctor  in  the  hoose. ' ' 

"I — I  thocht  it  wis  best  fur  ye  to  ha'e 
the  doctor,  Rubbert.  An'  Dr.  M'Haf- 
fie  's  a  rale  dacent  man,  an'  a  kind  man 
f  urbye. ' ' 

1 1  He  's  a  peely-wally  auld  wife !  Dod ! 
but  I  think  whiles  he  tak's  his  ain  med- 
dicine ! ' ' 

"Puir  man!  I  doot  he'll  need  it 
whiles,  fur  he  tries  to  dae  mair  work  nor 
a  man  's  fit  fur. ' ' 

"Weel,  he  gets  peyed  fur  't,"  mut- 
tered Mr.  M'Lerie. 


218  MRS.  M'LERIE 

"He  disna  get  peyed  fur  the  hauf  o' 
whit  he  dis,"  Mrs.  M'Lerie  rejoined 
quietly.  "An'  he  's  aye  gi'ein'  awa'  his 
money  to  puir  folk. ' ' 

'  *  Hmph ! "  he  ejaculated.  * '  Ye  wis  aye 
silly  aboot  doctors,  Sarah.  It  's  a  mar- 
vel to  me  that  yer  bairns  are  a'  leevin' 
the  day,  an'  healthy  an'  happy  furbye." 

1 '  When  ma  bairns  wis  wi '  me  they  aye 
tuk  their  meddicine  when  they  needit 
it, ' '  she  returned,  checking  a  sigh.  '  *  An ' 
I  dinna  mind  their  f ayther  ever  advisin ' 
them  no'  to  tak' it.  Eh,  Rubbert?"  A 
twinkle  came  in  the  old  eyes,  but  went 
out  almost  immediately. 

"Aw  ma  heid!"  he  interrupted. 

"Is  't  bad  again?"  she  cried,  anx- 
iously. 

"Ay,  it  's  bad— an'  nae  wunner!" 

"  D '  ye  want  to  be  quate  f  D '  ye  want 
me  no'  to  speak?"  she  asked. 

"Hmph!" 

"Weel,  dearie,  I  '11  haud  ma  tongue. 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  219 

But— but  wud  ye  no'  try  an'  tak'  it 
noo  I ' '  she  pleaded,  taking  the  glass  from 
the  mantelpiece. 

"If  ye  pit  that  near  me  again,"  he 
roared,  "  I  '11  fling  it  in  the  fire ! ' '  Then, 
with  an  angry  grunt,  he  closed  his  eyes. 

She  set  the  glass  down  once  more,  and 
drew  the  back  of  her  toil-worn,  wrinkled 
left  hand,  with  its  thin  wedding-ring, 
across  her  eyes. 

"He  's  said  mair  hard  words  to  me 
thae  twa-three  days  nor  ever  he  said  in 
fower-an '-forty  years,"  she  sighed  to 
herself.  "He  wis  aye  a  commandin' 
man,  but  never  unjust— never!  It  's  a 
sad  job  gettin'  auld." 

She  sat  down  opposite  him,  wiped  and 
put  on  her  spectacles,  and  made  an  ef- 
fort to  resume  the  knitting  of  a  thick 
gray  sock.  But  the  knitting  was  rather 
a  failure.  It  was  her  first  experience  of 
her  husband  as  an  invalid.  He  had 


220  MRS.  M'LERIE 

reached  threescore  and  ten  with  a  clean 
bill  of  health— always  a  masterful  man, 
but  never  a  querulous  one. 

And  then  suddenly  he  had  gone  "out 
of  sorts,"  and  Mrs.  M'Lerie,  in  alarm, 
and  on  her  own  responsibility,  had  called 
in  the  doctor,  a  proceeding  which  had 
greatly  annoyed  the  invalid. 

"I  'm  maybe  no'  weel,  but  I  'm  no' 
wantin'  to  be  waur, "  he  informed  the 
man  of  physic  to  his  face.  "Ye  can 
luk  at  ma  tongue  an'  fin'  ma  pulse,  an' 
play  ony  ither  ootside  jooglin'  ye  like, 
but  I  'm  fur  nane  o'  yer  bottles  an' 
peells."  After  which  he  went  into  a 
tirade  against  all  medical  science,  till 
his  poor  wife  was  fairly  affronted  and 
the  doctor  was  nigh  suffocating  with 
suppressed  laughter. 

"Is  he  rale  bad,  Doctor?"  whispered 
Mrs.  M'  Lerie,  trembling  with  apprehen- 
sion, as  she  saw  the  doctor  to  the  door. 


MB.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  221 

He  smiled  reassuringly  upon  her. 
"Oh,  nothing  serious,  Mrs.  M'Lerie. 
He  '11  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two.  But 
don't  give  him  solid  food  till  I  see  you 
again,  and  I  '11  send  along  a  bottle  which 
you  must  persuade  him  to  take.  He  's 
not  used  to  being  an  invalid,  so  I  ex- 
pect you  '11  have  some  trouble."  And, 
having  mentioned  when  he  would  return, 
Dr.  M'  Haifie  hurried  away. 

For  a  time  she  felt  comforted,  and 
bore  the  patient's  ill-natured  groans  and 
observations  with  comparative  equanim- 
ity; but  her  confidence  in  the  doctor's 
verdict  gradually  failed,  and  now,  after 
three  days  of  tender,  thankless  nursing, 
she  had  only  the  prospect  of  the  doctor's 
visit  that  night  to  restrain  her  from 
sinking  into  the  depths  of  despair.  She 
looked  at  the  physic-bottle,  scarcely 
touched  and  untasted,  save  by  herself; 
she  looked  at  her  drowsing  husband,  and 


222  MRS.  M'LERIE 

tried  to  believe  that  he  was  really  better 
than  three  days  ago.  And  then  she 
looked  at  the  clock. 

''Mercy  me!"  she  exclaimed,  half 
aloud.  "It  's  time  fur  his  tapioca!" 
She  went  over  to  the  fire,  opened  the 
oven  door,  and  took  out  the  pudding- 
dish. 

She  had  just  completed  setting  the 
table  for  the  evening  meal,  when  Mr. 
M'Lerie  opened  his  eyes,  hardly  as  one 
who  has  been  sound  asleep,  and  asked 
the  time. 

* '  Near  sax  o  'clock,  Rubbert.  Ha  'e  ye 
had  a  nice  bit  nap?" 

He  ignored  the  question,  staring  un- 
kindly at  the  table. 

"See  hoo  nice  an'  broon  it  's  got  on 
the  tap,"  said  his  wife,  indicating  the 
pudding. 

"Whit  is  it?" 

"Tapioca— jist  a  bewtifu'  dish  o'  tap- 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  223 

ioca,  dearie.  I  'in  shair  I  never  got  it 
to  come  as  nice  an'  broon  on  the  tap 
afore." 

1 ' 1  'm  no '  heedin '  whether  it  's  broon 
or  green  or  rid  or  bew— ay,  or  tartan— 
on  the  tap;  I  'm  no'  fur  it.  I  'm  fair 
seeck  o'  yer  sago  an'  tapioca  trash! 
Awa' wi.'  't!" 

"But,  Rubbert,  it  's  whit  the  doctor 
ordered. ' ' 

* '  I  'm  no '  heedin ' !  I  'm  fur  nae  mair 
o'  yer — yer  hen's  meat.  Ay,  that  's  the 
woord  fur  't— hen's  meat!  .  .  .  An'  me 
starvin',"  he  added,  with  a  groan. 

'  *  Are  ye  hungry  ? ' '  she  asked,  the  least 
thing  coldly.  She  could  not  immedi- 
ately wholly  forgive  the  insult  to  her 
carefully  prepared  pudding. 

1 '  Ay,  I  'm  hungry. ' ' 

"That  's  a  guid  sign,"  she  remarked 
more  cheerfully.  ' '  Is  yer  heid  better ! ' ' 

"A  wee  thing  easier,"  he  admitted 


224  MRS.   M'LERIE 

grudgingly.  "But  I  'm  wake  fur  want 
o'  meat." 

1 1  Weel,  Rubbert,  ye  micht  try  the  tap- 
ioca that  I—  " 

"I  didna  say  hen's  meat.  Can  ye 
no*  gi'e  us  a  dacent  bit  toastit  cheese, 
wumman  t ' ' 

"Toastit  cheese!  Oh  me,  the  day! 
The  doctor  wud  tak'  ma  heid  aff  if  I 
wis  gi'ein'  ye  toastit  cheese.  Na, 
na,  ye  maun  wait  a  wee  afore  ye  get 
that." 

"It  's  nane  o'  the  doctor's  business." 

"I  doot  it  is.  An'  it  's  ma  business  to 
get  ye  weel  again.  I  'm  gled  ye  're  a 
wee  thing  better  the  nicht,  but  I  'm  no' 
wantin'  ye  to  ha  'e  whit  they  ca'  a  col- 
lapse. ' ' 

"I  askit  fur  toastit  cheese— no'  fur  a 
collapse.  I  ken  what  I  can  eat  fine. ' ' 

"Och,  Rubbert,"  pleaded  Mrs.  M'Le- 
rie,  "ye  ken  it  's  a'  fur  yer  ain  guid. 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  225 

I  dirma  want  to  refuse  ye  onythin'  that 
wud  please  ye,  but— 

''Am  I  to  get  a  bit  toastit  cheese?" 

His  wife  shook  her  head.  "Come 
awa ',  noo,  an '  try  the  nice  tapioca  afore 
it  gets  cauld.  Doctor  M'Haffie  '11  be 
here  at  hauf-past  seeven,  an '  we  '11  speir 
at  him  when  he  thinks  ye  can  get  toastit 
cheese.  Ye  see,  Rubbert,  yer  inside  's 
no '  ready  fur  it  yet. ' ' 

"Ma  inside  's  ma  ain,  an'  I  ken  best 
whit  it  's  ready  fur,"  retorted  the  old 
man,  sulkily.  "I  wud  ha'e  been  better 
afore  noo  if  it  hadna  been  fur  a'  the 
hen's  meat  I  've  ett.  .  .  .  Na,  na;  ye 
needna  bring  me  that  plate.  I  '11  no* 
tich  it. ' '  He  groaned  and  lay  back  as  if 
to  slumber. 

Mrs.  M'Lerie,  half  distracted,  made 
one  more  effort.  "If  ye  wis  takin'  a 
wee  taste  tapioca  an'— an'— an*  the 
meddicine,  ye  micht  be  that  muckle  bet- 


226  MRS.  M'LERIE 

ter  when  the  doctor  comes  that  he  wud 
let  ye  ha'e  a  bit  toastit  cheese  some  day 
shin.  Eh,  Rubbert?" 

But  he  paid  no  attention. 

"Sirs,  the  day!"  she  sighed  to  her- 
self. "Whit  am  I  to  dae  wi'  him?  I  'm 
thinkin'  he  's  maybe  a  wee  thing  better 
the  nicht,  but  he  's  needin '  saf t  nourish- 
ment, an'  he  '11  no'  tak'  it.  ...  Dearie 
me!  An'  he  ca'ed  ma  bewtifu'  tapioca 
hen's  meat— hen's  meat!  An'  the  doc- 
tor '11  be  that  vexed  wi '  me  fur  no '  get- 
tin'  him  to  tak'  his  meddicine.  .  .  . 
Whit  am  I  to  dae  wi'  him?" 

It  was  only  six  o'clock,  and  an  hour 
and  a  half,  perhaps  more,  must  pass  ere 
the  doctor  would  appear.  She  replaced 
the  pudding  in  the  oven,  for  she  could 
not  bring  herself  to  eat  alone. 

1 '  Wad  ye  like  a  dish  o '  tea,  Rubbert  ? ' ' 
she  inquired  softly. 

But  there  was  no  response. 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  227 

' 'I  canna  thole  it  ony  longer,"  she 
thought.  "I  '11  awa '  oot  an'  see  if  I  can 
get  Doctor  M'Haffie  to  come  the  noo, 
an'  see  whit  's  to  be  dune.  Rubbert  '11 
no'  come  to  ony  hairm  his  lanesome." 
She  put  on  a  shawl,  and  after  a  last  look 
at  the  old  man,  set  out  for  the  doctor's 
house,  which,  fortunately,  was  in  the 
next  street. 

Doctor  M*  Haffie  had  just  settled  down 
to  his  tea,  but  he  rose  at  once  and 
accompanied  the  troubled  old  woman, 
talking  cheerfully  to  her  by  the  way. 

His  visit  lasted  barely  five  minutes, 
and  when  Mrs.  M'  Lerie  and  he  went  to- 
gether to  the  stair-head,  he  was  smiling 
broadly. 

"Is  he  really  better?"  she  asked. 

"He  's  nearly  all  right.  A  good  con- 
stitution is  better  than  much  physic. ' ' 

Overjoyed,  she  asked  another  ques- 
tion, which  caused  the  doctor  such 


228  MRS.  M'LERIE 

merriment  that  he  could  hardly  reply 
to  it. 

On  her  return  to  the  kitchen,  Mr. 
M*  Lerie  sat  up  in  his  chair.  ' '  I  tell 't  ye 
I  wis  better,  Sarah !  Did  he  say  I  wis  to 
get  the  toastit  cheese?" 

"Na;  no'  the  nicht,  Rubbert.  But  he 
said  ye  cud  get  a  wee  chope  if  ye  wis 
wantin'  it." 

"A  wee  chope  I  H'm!  Weel,  that  's 
better  nor  hen 's  meat,  onywey.  Ay,  I  '11 
tak'  a  chope— no'  an  awfu'  wee  yin,  ye 
ken." 

Mrs.  M'  Lerie  almost  flew  to  the  but- 
cher's, and  less  than  half  an  hour  later 
the  chop  was  before  her  husband. 

"Dod,  Sarah,  but  that  's  guid!"  he 
said,  as  he  mopped  up  the  gravy  with  a 
chunk  of  bread.  It  was  not  till  he  had 
finished  that  he  noticed  she  had  eaten 
nothing. 

"Ye  maun  ha'e  yer  supper,  wum- 


MR.  M'LERIE'S  CONVALESCENCE  229 

man,"  he  said,  looking  genuinely  dis- 
tressed. 

"I  'm  gaun  to  ha'e  the  tapioca,"  she 
returned,  going  over  to  the  oven. 

"Na,  na!"  he  cried  excitedly,  "ye 
maun  ha'e  somethin'  else.  Ye  '11  be 
ower  hungry  fur  tapioca.  Here,  Sarah, 
here !  Never  heed— ' ' 

But  Mrs.  M'Lerie  was  gazing  in 
amazement  at  the  pudding-dish,  which 
did  not  contain  a  vestige  of  tapioca. 

Her  husband's  face  was  fiery,  and  he 
looked  like  a  child  taken  in  a  fault. 
"Aw,  Sarah!"  he  murmured  foolishly. 

But  Sarah  had  dropped  into  a  chair, 
and,  with  the  dish  in  her  lap,  was  rock- 
ing to  and  fro  in  a  paroxysm  of  laugh- 
ter. 

"Aw,  Sarah,  I  cudna— I  cudna  help 
it,"  he  stammered. 

"Ye— ye  Jve  left  me  the  m-meddicine, 
onywey,"  she  cried,  and  laughed  again. 


230  MRS.  M'LERIE 

But  soon  she  saw  that  her  partner  of 
nearly  half  a  century  was  shamefaced 
and  miserable.  She  rose,  put  the  dish 
aside,  and  brought  down  his  pipe  and 
tobacco  from  the  mantelpiece. 

"Ye  '11  be  wantin'  yer  smoke  noo, 
Rubbert.  .  .  .  I  'm  rale  gled  ye  're  bet- 
ter." 

Perhaps  it  was  because  of  his  failing 
sight  that  he  took  her  hand  along  with 
the  pipe  and  tobacco. 


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